Forget me not
by Bianca Roz
Summary: The last time Nora saw Patch, she told him she loved him. Two weeks later he's back in town and completely forgotten about her. What's worse is he's dating Marcie. Nora can sense something weird is going on. Could he really not remember her after 2 weeks?  - Takes place after book 1 as a replacement for book 2. Rated M for language
1. Chapter 1: I want you to want me

**CHAPTER 1:**

"I want you to want me  
I need you to need me  
I'd love you to love me."

Letters to Cleo (I want you to want me)

* * *

"Patch," I breathed in. "I love you."

As I sat on his lap, in his jeep, with our foreheads pushing against each other, I said those words. Right then I couldn't look at him. I couldn't believe they'd escaped my mouth.

I felt him breathe in deeply for a moment, his warm palms cupping my face. He kissed my lips.

"Nora..."

Was he going to say it?

"I have to go."

My head shot up. I just told him I loved him and that was all he could manage to say? I joked to hide the hurt I was feeling just then. "Are you cheating on me? I thought you were MY guardian angel. Who else are you protecting?"

He laughed. "I've got some business to take care of. It can't wait."

"All right," I said, disappointed. I slugged off his lap and manoeuvred myself out of the passenger door. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" I asked, nonchalantly as I landed on the gravel of my driveway.

Patch was in front of me in a flash. "Angel," he said with a reprimanding smile.

"What?" I prompted. Can you please take a hint!

His left eyebrow arched parallel to his one-sided smile. It was hard to be upset with him when he looked at me that way. Wasn't it enough that Patch rejected my self-sacrifice and chose to have me instead of a human body? Wasn't it enough that I had him here with me now?

Patch held out his hand. I smiled with joy and accepted. His hand enveloped mine and he walked me to my door. I never wanted to be away from his warmth, but this was his cue to leave. I'd have to wait till tomorrow to see him again, to kiss him again.


	2. Chapter 2: A beautiful lie

**CHAPTER 2:**

"It's time to forget about the past,  
To wash away what happened last.  
Hide behind an empty face.  
Don't ask too much, just say  
'Cause this is just a game.

It's a beautiful lie  
It's the perfect denial  
Such a beautiful lie to believe in  
So beautiful. Beautiful it makes me."

30 Seconds To Mars (A beautiful lie)

* * *

"And that was the last time I saw Patch Cipriano."

"Are you covering up for him?" Detective Basso asked, sitting comfortably at our dinner table.

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on! You hear your boyfriend's wanted in connection with the death of a high school student, and you're not going to TRY to cover up for him?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I said softly. "And it was a suicide."

"Why should I believe you?" he narrowed his eyes at me.

"Look, I haven't seen him since that night we came back from Delphic Beach. It's been two weeks already. I assume that's code for 'we're over'."

Detective Basso leaned back in his chair, his gun in his arm holster clearly visible. "Now why would he just disappear like that? That sounds like something a guilty man would do."

I remained still. Basso tried to penetrate my hostile façade , but gave up with a smirk. He got up, pulled his jacket off the back of the chair and climbed into it. He walked up to me and stopped. His low, rumbling voice sent chills up my spine as he said, "I will find out what happened to Jules, with or without your co-operation." Then he let himself out.

I heard the door open and his footsteps stop. "Nora!" he called. "Tell your boyfriend to pay me a visit when he comes back into town." I heard the door close and his car drive off.

I'm not entirely sure of what happened the night that Jules died. But Patch saved me! Jules was the one trying to kill me and torture Vee. If not for Patch, I'd be dead. I blacked out after I fell off the rafter in the school gym. That was the moment I sacrificed myself for Patch to gain a human body and to kill Chauncey (aka Jules) his nephilim vessel.

In other words, I should be dead! Detective Basso would never believe a word of it. That's why it didn't matter if I told the truth or part of it. Patch and I were the only two there that night (or so we've had the reports believe). We were the only ones that knew the truth.


	3. Chapter 3: Speechless

**CHAPTER 3:**

"I can't believe how you looked at me  
With your James Dean glossy eyes,  
In your tight jeans with your long hair,  
And your cigarette-stained lies.

...

I'll never love again.  
Oh, boy, you've left me speechless."

Lady Gaga (Speechless)

* * *

Detective Basso's little visit was like a fly in my soup – it ruined the entire dish with just one touch of its filthy leg. I hated talking about Patch. It only crushed my heart. I hated thinking of him. Every memory was like a thousand piercing spears into the heart that loved him.

The only good thing that came from Patch removing himself from my life was that my grades were up again. Granted, I was attending summer school because of that stupid biology class that put Patch and I together. But never the less, my grades were improving immediately. I guess I really have more time to concentrate on my studies when I'm not being hunted down by my nephilim forefather, or my ex's ex (an angel of death).

Life could finally get back to normal and I could forget that I ever met Patch Cipriano.

Vee dropped me off at summer school.

"Work hard, honey," she joked, as I got out of her purple Neon.

"Yes, mom," I played along, smiling as I slid my backpack on.

"Don't talk to strangers," she added.

As I looked over the roof of her car, there in the middle of the parking lot I saw him.

Patch.

Part of me wanted to run into his arms and pretend the last two weeks never happened. The other part of me wanted to march up to him and kick his ass, ask questions later. Both parts pulled in different directions and I remained motionless.

Patch got out of his jeep (oh, how I remember that jeep!) and narrowed his eyes in the sunlight. From around the back of the jeep came a pink wave called Marcie Millar, my arch-enemy. She walked out behind him, grabbed his arm and kissed his cheek with an overzealous smile.

"What just happened?" Vee asked when she found what I was staring at.

Patch and Marcie were approaching the entrance to the school, arm in arm and smiling. He used to smile at me like that.

Vee and I stood wide-eyed as they passed us, confused by this revelation. When Marcie threw a nasty glance at us, Patch noticed and looked our way. He first saw Vee then looked at me. Our eyes met but he never flinched a bit when he saw me openly staring at the two of them.

What could've happened these last two weeks to make him change so much?


	4. Chapter 4: The feel good drag

A/N: Thanks to coreysfallen and mariaa124 for reviewing. Thank you NightAngel27 for adding me to your favourite stories. Thanks to everyone for reading this story and please leave a comment about where you think the story should go, what you don't like or anything really. I'm not American so I'm trying to figure out this summer school thing as best as I can. Happy reading.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4:**

"Was this over before it ever began?

Your kiss. Your calls. Your crutch.

Like the devil's in your hand.

This was over before it ever began.

Your lips. Your lies. Your lust.

Like the devil's in your hands."

Anberlin (The feel good drag)

* * *

"Babe? Nora!" Vee called. I snapped out of my shock of seeing Patch with HER. I was upset about a lot of things but for him to parade through the parking lot with Marcie really took the cake.

This wasn't the Patch I knew. The Patch I knew would never try to hurt me (except for a few months ago when he intended to kill me on a few occasions. But that was the old Patch). Has he gone back to his old ways?

"Are you okay? Do you want to ditch right now?" Vee offered.

If Patch was out of my life, I couldn't let him have any control over my life. I turned to Vee, smiled and assured her, "I'm fine."

With her hand on the steering wheel, she asked again, "You sure? We can leave right now. There's a sale at the lingerie store... We could go to the movies or-"

"Vee," I called her attention. "It's fine. I'll be fine. Just pick me up after school, okay?"

She nodded in silence, "Sure thing. But if you change your mind at any time, just give me a call."

I laughed at her persistence, and waved her goodbye. She wouldn't leave, as if she knew I'd change my mind sooner or later. I had to convince her.

So I inhaled and took my first step toward the school entrance. Knowing Vee was watching me, I injected energy into my step. But once inside, I slowed down again.

As I made my way to my biology class, I pondered Vee's offer. I could leave right now, but I'd have to deal with it tomorrow. So I continued on, stopping at a water fountain metres from my class to collect myself.

I sipped from the fountain, the coolness bringing a calm over me. I stood straight again and turned around, crashing into something hard and black. I tried to step back but the fountain seemed to counter my reaction. I looked up, recognizing the face then looked down again.

Patch.

My body was experiencing an imbalance of protons and neutrons. I wasn't sure whether to be attracted or repelled by him.

"Hi," I said softly. Looking away from him.

"Hello?" his eyebrow twitched in a silent confusion.

"Where have you been the last two weeks?" I asked. He stared me down like a statue. I seemed to roll through the next bit like a snowball down hill: "Every time I call your number, the lady on the other end tells me 'the number you have dialled is not available at present. Please try again later'. And I do try again later but you never pick up!"

His dark eyes sifted through the moment. I tried to read his face but, like all the times before, I couldn't. It was refreshing to know at least one thing was still the same.

He opened his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

My heart dropped (my jaw seemed to imitate it). I rolled my eyes. "YOU, asshole," is all I replied and walked off with my eyes set on the biology class.


	5. Chapter 5: Show me how to live

**CHAPTER 5:**

"Built with stolen parts,

A telephone in my heart.

Someone get me a priest

To put my mind to bed.

This ringing in my head

Is this a cure or is this a disease?

Nail in my hand

From my creator.

You gave me life now

Show me how to live."

Audioslave (Show me how to live)

* * *

My mind was all over the place after talking to an apparently amnesiac Patch. I took a table somewhere closer to the back of the class hoping that no one would take the effort to look behind them.

Moments later, Marcie entered the semi-filled classroom dragging Patch by the hand. She was moving toward her friends in the front of the class with an over-excited smile when she noticed me a few rows behind them.

Right then, Marcie raised an eyebrow as if the light went on in her hollow skull and she chose the table right in front of me. Marcie chose the seat on the left and Patch sat directly in front of me.

"Why don't you sit here?" her friends in front asked, pointing to the tables behind them.

"I'm keeping them for Liz and Carly," Marcie replied. As if Marcie could ever be thoughtful of other people.

Once her friends' attention was off her, she made eye contact with Patch, and smiled. Very stealthily, she glanced over at me with a sneering smirk forming at the corner of her mouth.

I held her gaze for a moment then looked away, noticing the other side of the class whispering and staring at me. Yes, I dated this jerk who's now dating this bitch. Can we move on?

The classroom filled up as Coach McConaughy prepared to begin his lesson. Every seat filled up except for the one next to me. Did I have LOSER stamped on my forehead?

I exhaled and focused my attention on the board where Coach McConaughy began writing up the first lesson. It wasn't long till my eyes flew to the classroom door, which swung open. From it emerged Elliot Saunders, back from the dead.


	6. Chapter 6: My immortal

**CHAPTER 6:**

"I'm so tired of being here,  
Suppressed by all my childish fears.  
And if you have to leave,  
I wish that you would just leave,  
Because your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone.

These wounds won't seem to heal.  
This pain is just too real.  
There's just too much that time cannot erase."

Evanescence (My Immortal)

* * *

"Sorry I'm late, sir," said Elliot, standing at the door.

"Take a seat," replied Coach McConaughy without taking his eyes off the board.

Elliot scanned the classroom for an empty seat (guess who had the ONLY available seat in the entire class). Was everyone in on this sick joke except me?

Elliot eyed me as he walked down the aisle and around me. I felt my spine stiffen. This is the guy that helped Jules with his psychotic plan to kill me. I didn't feel safe; even in this crowded room, even with Patch only two feet away.

Elliot climbed on top of the stool and smiled, "Nora."

My eyes widened. He remembered me. "Elliot," I said, crossing my arms over my chest protectively. "Glad to hear some people still remember me, " I said as I stared into Patch's back.

He laughed under his breath. "So how ya doing?" he asked, checking me up and down.

"Fine," I stumbled over the word. I was paralyzed with fear as I sat a foot away from a killer. I tried to be responsive without seeming inviting. The last thing I wanted to do was to get him upset. "How are you?" I asked.

"I'm good," he smiled. "After the incident I had to go through a lot of rehabilitation but now I'm good as new. I feel stronger."

Great.

"Why are you in summer schoo-"

"Coach is starting his lesson," I cut him off, pointing subtly to the board with my pen. "We should listen." I had to end the conversation. The less he knew, the safer I was.

Elliot zipped his lip, faced forward in his seat and smiled, "Smarty pants."

For the first hour of the session I kept a watchful eye over Elliot as if I expected him to pull a knife on me any second, or stab me with his pen. He held it with such force that I could vividly imagine what he could do to me with such a simple object. The veins that popped up and ran down his forearms echoed his earlier statement: he LOOKED stronger.

"What?" he asked when he caught me staring at his hand.

"Nothing," I quickly responded.

"Are you copying my work?' he asked.

"No! As if I'd need to copy from anybody."

He sat up straight in shock. "Well if you're so smart, what are you doing in summer school?"

Okay! Drop it already!

I took in a deep breath before explaining. "Because of everything that happened at the end of last semester," I caught his eye for a second, "my grades dropped. I managed to pass all my other subjects with a B+ but because of my previous biology partner, I'm borderline failing this subject." I warily caught his eye again and he held my gaze there for a moment too long.

"Grey! Saunders!" Coach McConaughy called from his desk.

We both looked at him giving us a suggestive look. Our heads dropped and our pens began scribbling from the board. Elliot looked at me from the corner of his eye and laughed quietly.


	7. Chapter 7: Unforgivable sinner

**CHAPTER 7:**

"You know where you've sent her  
You sure know where you are.  
You're trying to ease off  
But you know you won't get far.  
And now she's up there,  
Sings like an angel  
But you can't hear those words.  
And now she's up there  
Sings like an angel.  
Unforgivable Sinner."

Lene Marlin (Unforgivable sinner)

* * *

Fortunately, we only had 3 hours of biology for the day. I couldn't wait to escape the suffocating atmosphere. As soon as Coach was done with his lesson I was slamming my books closed and packing them into my rucksack. I swiftly moved out the door and began pacing toward the main entrance where I promised to meet Vee.

"Nora!" someone called from down the corridor.

I spun around and found Elliot waving his hand in the air way above everyone's heads. Was he going to stalk me now? I ignored him and continued toward the entrance with more urgency. Just as I reached the light at the end of the corridor, Elliot wrapped his great hand on my right shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, wriggling out of his grip and out of the nearby entrance.

"Nora, what's wrong?" he asked, following me.

"I quickly spun around, nearly causing him to bump into me. "Am I the only one that remembers what happened two months ago?"

His eyes widened and his lips pursed together, hoping no one else was overhearing my very public outcry.

"So you do remember?" I deduced.

He looked away, ashamed. "Yeah."

"Then why are you acting like we're still friends? You tried to fucking kill me!"

His hand shot up to his mouth, gesturing me to be quiet. His worried eyes searched the crowd for any signs of people taking notice. "What I did," he began, "I'm not proud of it, okay? But I feel the same now as I did before it all went down. I still want to be your friend. When we used to hang out... it was nice," he smiled from a memory.

When he saw that I wasn't responding, he said more. "I didn't want to do the things I did, but I was stuck. And then Jules fucked me over." I could see the resentment in his eyes. "But I'm not that guy anymore. I don't expect you to forgive me right away but I really want to apologise for everything I did; for lying to you; for hurting you and Vee; and for trying to kill you," he added.

He looked at me. I looked at him. He waited.

"I appreciate that," I hesitated. "I'm still a bit shaken up about what happened and I'm dealing with a lot of trust issues because of that. So I'm going to take what you said and say 'okay'." Just then, Vee's car pulled up. "I've got to go. Vee's here," I quickly said, already moving towards her car.

"I want to apologise to her as well."

"It's okay. I'll tell her what you said," I replied, rushing to close the door. "Don't get out," I said to Vee. "Just drive."


	8. Chapter 8: I hate everything about you

**CHAPTER 7:**

"Only when I stop to think about it

I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you?."

Three Days Grace (I hate everything about you)

* * *

I refused to answer any of Vee's questions about my day at school today until we were safely out of her car. Knowing Vee, she's have turned around, run over Elliot, hunted Marcy and Patch down and kicked both their asses. Of course, I knew she couldn't take on Patch (him being a heavenly being and all) but anything was possible when Vee got angry.

We stopped at The Borderline to talk about the events over lunch. We'd just finished ordering when Vee started with the questions.

"Did my eyes fool me or were you talking to Elliot back there?"

"Yip, that was Elliot."

"He's back in school?"

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"Let me rephrase that: he's back in OUR school?"

I knew what Vee meant but I found myself defending Elliot. "I guess he's finishing the school year. I don't know why he's back. We didn't really talk much."

"Yeah? Then what were you two doing before I picked you up? It looked like talking to me."

"He was apologising," I smiled. The mood lightened. "He wanted to apologise to you too but I thought it best to keep you two apart."

"Good call. He owes me a GOLDEN fucking apology!" Vee cried, raising her finger in the air.

Our food and drinks arrived shortly after and we wasted no time getting into our meals.

"These fries are amazing!" Vee moaned through a full mouth.

"No diet today?"

"Please don't ruin this for me," she begged with her shoulders slumped.

I chuckled and followed her in the same fashion, ferociously gobbling the fries. Borderline always had the best fries – irresistible and absolutely tempting.

About ten minutes into our meal, Vee's eyes caught something happening behind me.

"What is it?" I asked, taking a bite out of my burger.

"IT is correct. IT is Marcie," Vee remarked.

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to look back.

"With Patch," she said as raised her eyebrows. "They just walked in."

I'm not going to pretend like it didn't sting to hear that but I was tired of crying over Patch. I was tired of giving him so much control over my feelings. I will get over him starting now. I sat up and pumped myself full of confidence.

"Who cares about them? The whole day today Patch was acting like he doesn't know me. If he wants to pretend like I never existed, I can do the same. So tell me, Vee, who just walked in?" I asked with fake concern.

Vee smiled approvingly. "No one."

"Hi, Supersize," Marcie greeted Vee as she slowly sashayed up to our table from behind me.

"Hello, Anorexia Petrova."

"Come on, baby. Let's get a table far away from these two sluts," Marcie told Patch as she swung her arm around and behind her to grab his hand, knocking my drink over which flooded my plate of food and drenched my lap.

As I sat back, hoping to somehow escape the spill, Marcie began cackling. I fumed as I looked up at her laughing face, then at Patch who smiled and laughed.

Vee jumped out of her seat. "What the fuck?" yelled Vee as she pushed Marcie back, jerking her out of her laughing state.

Just as Marcie gained her balance to come back at Vee, Patch stepped between the two raging bulls. "Whoa! That's enough," he said to Vee.

Vee's nostrils flared and her fists closed tighter. "First you come between me and Nora, now you come between me and this bitch," she pointed to Marcie who sneered at the word. "Nora might not do anything but I will fuck-you-up," she emphasized, paused then looked at Marcie. "Both of you."

Marcie slowly began moving behind the protection of Patch as he eyed Vee, who eyed Marcie. Patch followed his master to their table far away from us.

Vee sat down and began handing me serviettes.

"Thanks," I said. "You do realise you could never take both of them on."

As she dried the area around my spilled drink, she light-heartedly replied, "Well I'm hoping that by the time I do, you'll put your big girl panties on and join in the fight."


	9. Chapter 9: Feeling good

A/N: I apologise for taking forever to update. My internet's been down and I only write late at night so it's been slow. Thanks to N.A.P.I.A 87RipRocket and coreysfallen for your support. Thanks to every one who continues to read this. It's motivating and incredible to know that at least one person reads this without me asking them to. Thank you so much.

* * *

**CHAPTER 9:**

"Birds flying high,  
You know how I feel.  
Sun in the sky,  
You know how I feel.  
Breeze driftin' on by,  
You know how I feel.  
It's a new dawn,  
It's a new day,  
It's a new life,  
For me.  
And I'm feeling good."

Muse (I'm feeling good)

* * *

"I really need my own car," I told Vee as we lay on the beach a few miles from my house. The sun was warm on my skin and the waves brought a relaxing motion to our sun-tanning state.

Vee shrugged. "You don't really need your own wheels because you've got me," she smiled with her large, black sunglasses covering half of her face.

"But I hate relying on other people to get me around. I feel so helpless."

"Don't you just hate that your mom sold your car? I'm surprised she got any money for that rust-bucket."

I turned over onto my stomach, crossed my arms on my towel and nestled my face into the groove. "It's not fair!" I moaned into my towel. Vee laughed at my misery. Suddenly it occurred to me, "I need a job."

"No you don't."

I pulled my face out of hiding and explained to her, "I need a car, therefore I need a job to pay for the car."

Vee sat up, supporting her back with her arms pitched into the sand behind her.  
"Firstly, you don't need a car right now. Secondly, you don't need a job right now because it's summer vacation. Do you really want to waste your youthful days slaving away for THE MAN?"

I hated when Vee made sense but I decided that I've had a car for too long to live without it. The sooner I started working, the sooner I could buy my car.

"Summer vacation is overrated," I rationalized.

By four o' clock we decided we'd had enough of the beach and packed up our umbrella and towels into our beach bag. We slipped on our sundresses and sandals and began trekking through the sand, toward the road.

On our way to Vee's car (parked a few blocks away from the beach) we came across Enzo's Bistro. There, in the window on white paper with red ink was my sign: WAITRESS WANTED.

"Vee, wait."

"What is it?" she turned around.

I pointed to the sign with a grin on my face, still trying to sell her the idea.

She sighed, "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," I nodded.

She shook her shoulders to and fro like an impatient child, then followed me into the diner.

I found the first employee that I could see and asked for the manager. The waitress directed me to a lady behind the cashier.

"Good afternoon. My name's Nora. I saw the sign outside; you're looking for a waitress? I'd like to apply."

The grey-blonde-haired lady looked me up and down. "You ever waited tables before?"

"No, ma'am, I haven't. But my friend and I eat here all the time. I know the menu back to front," I smiled confidently.

"When can you start?"

"Immediately."

"You in summer school or are you available anytime?" she asked with her hand on her hip.

"I'm in summer school but my classes finish around eleven so I can be here by midday."

She gave it a thought. "Fine. You start training tomorrow. See you then."

Vee offered to drop me off at Enzo's after school and I promised to find my own way once I had my schedule sorted out.

When I arrived at school I felt a renewed energy. My mind was focused and I couldn't care less about what anyone else was doing. I hardly even noticed that Elliot didn't show up for class today. Could this day get any better? I have to say that Elliot's apology two days ago seemed sincere and it deflated some of my internal hostility toward him. To add to the bonuses of the day, I had the strength to completely ignore Marcie and Patch. I was feeling good.

The lesson ended exactly on the hour and I zipped through the hallway, nearly flying into Vee's car.

"Are you excited for your first day of work?" Vee asked as we got on the road.

"Yeah!" I smiled eagerly. "I'm nervous but I'm visualizing my new second-hand car. Show me the money."

Vee looked at me, an idea coming to her head. "Show me the money," she said louder.

"Show me the money!" I yelled.

"Show me the money!" she yelled out of the window. We broke into laughter. It felt good. I haven't laughed that way in a while.

As Vee drove off, I walked into Enzo's looking for the manager, Lesley.

"Welcome to your first day of work, Nora," she greeted, putting her arm around my shoulders. "Elliot!" she called to the back of the diner. "You'll be working under Elliot," she told me. "If you have any questions, ask him. Here's your apron and notebook. Have fun."


	10. Chapter 10: Become

**CHAPTER 10:**

"There's so much more about you that you never let them see  
You turn away  
But not to me

...

And everything you been denied you feel  
It's all you feel

...

With no fear where you're from  
You have become beautiful."

Goo Goo Dolls (Become)

* * *

Elliot – yes Elliot Saunders – emerged from the kitchen's swing door with a dish cloth in his right hand and a moment of shock on his face when he saw me next to Lesley. He looked back at her quickly.

"You called?"

"Elliot, this is Nora. She's starting her training today. Show her the ropes, okay?" she instructed him. "Good luck, Nora," she said, patting me on the shoulder and going into a backroom.

As I watched her leave Elliot lightly whipped his dish cloth at me to get my attention.

"Well, well, what do you know? Nora Grey has spare time between attending summer school and studying for summer school."

"I don't always study," I had to defend myself. I don't like people acting like they've figured me out.

"I guess not. Looks like you've got a little bit of a tan going on there," he said, looking impressed.

"See," I gloated victoriously.

He laughed. "We should probably get you started," he said, throwing the dish cloth over his shoulder.

After giving me a quick tour of the kitchen, office and staffroom, and then introducing me to the rest of the staff, I got suited up in my blue jeans, white shirt and most comfortable white sneakers. He showed me how to punch orders into the computer and how to set up the table for the customers (using his tables as guinea pigs).

"Good day, folks. How are you doing?" he'd start off. "My name is Elliot. This is Nora. She's a trainee so she'll be helping me out. Feel free to abuse her services." The table would laugh. "Take it away, Nora," he'd direct me to take their orders.

It was awkward being in a subordinate position but soon enough I'd have my own tables and making my own tips.

After his first table left, he processed the payment of the bill through the computer. "Three-dollar tip. There you go," he handed me a dollar. "The rest is mine."

"A single. I feel like a stripper," I laughed.

"Strippers work a lot harder for their singles than you have."

I gasped then punched his arm.

"Have you carried a tray before?" he asked, heading to a table that just left.

"Nope."

"Well you better start practicing now. Lesley charges five-dollars per item you break. Let's hope your dollar doesn't get wasted on that today. Come on," he said handing me a tray. "I don't know how much weight you can carry on one arm so let's start you off with the glasses."

After putting four tall glasses on to my tray, I carefully raised it with my right hand. Elliot stood by, nervously watching the tray. I began walking slowly to the kitchen, a few glasses wobbling on the way but I made it without any accidents. I walked back to the table to find Elliot nodding to my success. I curtsied theatrically.

"You weren't in class today," I mentioned as we both cleared the plates from the table.

"You noticed?" he smiled, packing the cutlery on to one plate.

"Well, yeah." Now I felt awkward for bringing it up. "Only 'cause you block out most of the sunlight when you are there."

"Oh, you've got jokes hey?" he smiled wiping the table with his dish cloth.

"Yeah. You got one?"

He stopped what he was doing, turned his head sideways holding my gaze. He smiled, "No." Then he stood upright, saying, "Okay, let's see if you can lift this load."

I slowly pulled the tray of plates and cutlery to the side of the table so that my hand could get under it. I placed my hand in the centre and carefully lifted the tray above my shoulder. I got my balance.

"There you go," he cheered.

I made it to the kitchen with plates and cutlery in place. Once I'd emptied my tray and packed it back on the pile, I found Elliot sitting at one booth close to the entrance. I sat across from him.

"So where were you today? Were you here the whole day?"

"Yeah. I take all the shifts I can get."

"Are you saving for something?"

"Yeah. College."

"Oh," was all I could muster. I was prepared financially for college. I would apply for a bursary and use my inheritance from my dad to finance my studies and housing. Knowing how expensive college is, I couldn't imagine any person financing it entirely on their own. And here was Elliot, doing just that. "What about your parents? Can't they help?"

With his eyes down, he shrugged. "Yeah, they'll help out a bit, I guess. I mean, they couldn't even afford my tuition at Kinghorn Prep." He looked up at me. "Jules was my benefactor."

Silence fell between us just before I realized, "He really screwed you over."

He managed a slight laugh. "What about you? Working is a waste of a summer."

"You sound like Vee. I'm saving up for a car," I rolled my eyes, realising how immature my choice to work now seemed compared to his.

"So that you don't have to wait for Vee to rescue you from my company?"

I gushed. "Sorry about that. I was having a bad day."

"I'm sorry I ruined an entire day for you," he retorted sourly.

"It was ruined before you showed up," I said quietly. I really didn't want to think about this right now, I tried to brush over the answer without giving any details. "Ex-boyfriend hooked up with my arch-enemy."

"Ouch!"

"Very," I agreed.

When six o' clock rolled around, Enzo's was buzzing with customers. I was working two tables at the time when Cassie (another waitress) told me I had a new table. I delivered the food to my table and excitedly walked up to Cassie, asking, "Where's my table?"

"Table six," she replied, nodding her head in the direction.

I followed her direction, finding four familiar faces taking their seats in the booth. Marcie. Patch. Liz. Rixon.

As if public humiliation wasn't enough, now it had to be at my new job too. There was no way I was going to serve them!

"Can I please get the next table?" I asked Cassie.

"As much as we'd love the tips, we're all busy. Just take the table." And she left my side in a hurry.

My breathing became quick and shallow. I began imagining what would happen if I'd actually accept Marcie's table. She'd insult me with something like, "Nora Grey, you were born to serve me." And laugh me into submission while Patch and the rest of them indulged her immature taunting. I became light-headed.

I needed my iron pills.

I rushed to the staff room where the bags were kept. My hands reached out for the door handle but it opened from the other side before I even touched it. My eyes were focused anywhere below eye-level. I never saw who opened the door but he was standing in my way.

I needed my iron pills.

I pushed him to the side and fell to my knees in front of my bag. I searched then pulled out the bottle of iron pills, popped two in my mouth and swallowed them dry.

"Are you okay?" the guy asked.

I tried to get my heart rate down as I sat leaning against the wall with my eyes shut. Breathe, I told myself.

A warm hand gently touched my forearm as it rested across my raised knees. I slowly opened my eyes to find Elliot's blue eyes staring back at me with concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"I just got a new table. They're from CHS. I don't want to take it."

Elliot moved away an inch. "Are you ashamed of working here?" I think he felt self-conscious suddenly.

"No! If you see who it is, you'll understand."

He got up and exited the room for 20 seconds. "Marcie's table?" he asked. I nodded. "The upside to being a waiter," he said as he crouched next to me, smiling mischievously, "is that you can do stuff to their food."

I let out a chuckle at the thought of Marcie eating food that had been unhygienically tampered with. "I'd love to do that but I can't even talk to them."

Elliot stared at me for a long time before I gave in.

"Do you remember when I told you about my day being ruined?"

"Yeah?" he replied, waiting for me to make it more obvious, only getting it once my eyes got a bit wider. "Oh!" he reacted with a hand to his head.

"I can't take that table."

"I'll take it," he said, getting up. A smile started growing on my face. "But I'm keeping the tips and commission."

"Absolutely! Thank you so much!"

"I need all the tables I can get," he said, leaving the room.


	11. Chapter 11: Feels like home

**CHAPTER 11:**

"Somethin' in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself  
Makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms.  
There's somethin' in your voice, makes my heart beat fast.  
Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life

...

Well, if you knew how much this moment means to me  
And how long I've waited for your touch.  
And if you knew how happy you are making me  
I never thought that I'd love anyone so much.

It feels like home to me."

Chantal Kreviazuk (Feels like home)

* * *

Vee gave me a lift home after work, which meant we only arrived just before 11p.m. I insisted that she sleep over instead of driving back at that hour. She never liked driving from my house at night alone with all the fog anyway.

Vee spent the day at the beach so we were both exhausted from the long day. Vee took the couch downstairs and within five minutes the house fell silent as I got lost in sleep.

I was back in the staff room of Enzo's Bistro, swallowing my iron pills with my head lowered as I caught my breath while sitting on the linoleum floor. I heard footsteps over the noise of the restaurant. A warm hand gently touched my forearm. I looked up. Black curls covered his face. A familiar flutter moved through my stomach.

"What's wrong?" the familiar voice asked softly. Goosebumps rippled over my entire body.

"I don't want to play games anymore. I miss you so much!" I cried, getting up on to my knees to get closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed myself closer to him. I felt him reciprocate the feeling. Warm happiness flowed through my body. I had to kiss him. I had to see that smile that I'd grown to love.

I broke from the hug and held his face in my hands. I combed his hair away from his eyes. Blue eyes.

"Your eyes," I gasped.

He looked away.

"No. It's okay. It's okay," I said, just wanting his eyes on me.

In an instant, he looked back at me and tackled me with a deep kiss. I was on my way to falling backwards when his hand secured itself in the middle of my back, pulling me into him. His other hand pulled my thigh around his waist and my other thigh copied it. He stood up and my legs locked together behind him. Our lips never broke contact. This was the way I remembered us. I wanted it back.


	12. Chapter 12: What's my name?

Once again I apologise for taking so long to update but I have good excuses: I was having writer's block so I began watching TV series on my PC, namely TRUE BLOOD. And I could not stop watching until I finished all three seasons. I forgot about Patch and focused on Eric [but I saw the error of my ways and returned to our bonding love for Patch].

So here's my next batch of chapters. Many warm thanks to chocolate-eyed-girl and EdwardCullen123 for their recent fanship. Please keep reading because you people keep me going. I already have the story figured out in my head. I only write it out for you awesome people. Enjoy the read.

* * *

**CHAPTER 12:**

"Away we go.  
Only thing we have on is the radio,  
Let it play. Say you gotta leave  
but I know you wanna stay.  
You just waiting on the track to finish girl,  
the things we could do in twenty minutes girl.  
Say my name, say my name.  
Wear it out, it's getting hot, crack a window, air it out.  
I can get you through a mighty long day.  
Soon as you go the text I'm gon' write is gon' say...

...

Baby you got me. Ain't nowhere that I'd be  
than with your arms around me.  
Back and forth you rock me.  
So I surrender, to every word you whisper  
every door you enter, I will let you in.

Ooh na, na. What's my name?"

Rihanna ft Drake (What's my name?)

* * *

"It's not polite to stare," said Elliot.

His voice pulled me out of my daydream. If it hadn't been for the well-structured triangular form of my forearms and elbows, my head would've been flat on the desk giving me away completely to everyone else.

"It's not polite to stare at the board?" I turned my head his way.

"I saw what you were staring at. Or should I say... who?" he said, leaning in closer.

"Who?" I whispered.

"Starts with a 'P'," he whispered in my ear. "Ends with an 'asshole'."

I held back a chuckle. I could see how he would think I was staring at Patch. He sat right in front of me and I totally zoned out. My eyes were probably looking straight ahead of me naturally.

"Actually," I replied, "I was sleeping." And revisiting last night's dream.

"Tired from work?"

"Yeah," I nodded, eyes half shut.

"You'll get used to it."

"Is that why you're not tired?"

"I have a quick workout before I start my day. It's the best way to wake up."

"You're nuts," I disagreed.

"Says the nut falling asleep in class." He rolled his eyes.

I stuck my tongue out at him with half the effort. "Then I'm going to need a burst of adrenaline before I get to Enzo's." I pondered a solution.

"Grey!" Coach yelled. The entire class turned toward me while I looked directly at Coach. He gave me a reprimanding look.

In the blur of faces looking at me I noticed Patch's eyes on me: black eyes of indecipherable feeling. Flatline-beepbeep-beep.

My eyes fell back to Coach as he asked in a firm voice, "Do I need to separate the two of you?"

My head dropped for being scolded but my eyes lifted it up again to look at Patch's face one more time.

I looked back at Coach, replying, "No, sir."

Damn it! I just had the chance to move away from Elliot... but then I'd be away from Patch. I was trying to close the distance that built up between us over the last couple of weeks. I can sacrifice my personal well-being for a chance to fix things with Patch. Shame. I say that but I don't really mean it. Elliot's not so bad to be around now that he knows where he stands with me.

Once the class had settled back into their work, Elliot passed a note to me. It read:

**Stop drooling. Your desperation is so obvious!**

I looked at him with a WTF expression. With his chin resting on his upright hand he made a visual connection with his eyes between me and Patch, then pretended swooning over Patch's presence with fluttering eye lashes and a childish smile.

I put down the note and wrote back:

**Mind your own business.**

I flicked the paper across the desk into the palm of his hand and got back to my own work.

A moment later, he slowly stuffed the note under my text book. I opened it trying not to make a sound in the dead quiet classroom.

**Your business became my business last night. You freaked out at the sight of them and now you're staring. As a friend I have to tell you that it's creepy.**

I wrote back:

**Who said we're friends?**

**I gave you $1. I bought your friendship. HA! HA!**

I laughed under my breath when I read that. I had to avoid Coach's attention.

**My friendship's not that cheap. Add a few more zeros.**

**I know. Since I'm saving up for other things I can make it up to you in other ways.**

That sounded creepy. I wrote back:

**Like?**

**I can help you with your Problem...**

Capital P in the middle of the sentence? Bad grammar. But I suddenly realised that he was talking in code. The Problem is Patch.

I did not feel like discussing my ex-boyfriend with Elliot. There was something so unnatural about it. I folded up the note and tucked it between the pages of my biology textbook. I was not discussing it any further, especially on paper notes that could so easily be taken away by any external force (i.e. Coach) and exposed to the outer circle (i.e. the class).

Five minutes later, class was dismissed. Once in the hallway, Elliot followed up our last conversation.

"So do you want my help or not? I have a full-proof plan. It works on all men," he said, keeping his voice low key.

"It's a bit insulting how you think all men are the same. What happened to individuality?" I asked as we slowly strolled toward my locker.

"There's a reason why only two sexes were invented. You either have a male brain or you have a female brain. And I know how the male brain works... being a man and all," he said with pride.

I gave him a sideways glance as if he was inviting an insult.

"Don't," he held up a warning finger. "Don't even think about saying it."

I held back a smile. "Humour me. What's this full-proof plan of yours?"

"Men are like any other animal species. They're territorial. What once belonged to them, still belongs to them even if they've travelled to a new area. The last thing he wants to see is his territory being taken over by a new male."

"Women are not property that can be possessed!"

"Yeah. Yeah. Power to the women." He pumped his fist slightly into the air then continued, "But do you get what I'm saying?"

"You want me to get a new boyfriend to make the old one jealous?"

"Yeah!" he nodded, smiling.

"Forget it. I don't want to play games," I replied, shaking my head as I put my books into my locker. He shrugged as I turned to my left, catching Patch and Marcie in my vision, walking down the hall in our direction.

"All right then. See you later." Then he turned away and put a food toward the exit.

Seeing Marcie's arm around Patch's waist pissed me off so much. She probably enjoys torturing me this way. Patch was mine. She had no right to have him now!

Oh my gosh... I'm acting like a territorial male.

"Elliot, wait!" I quickly grabbed the bottom of his shirt.

He looked down at my hand while moving toward me. "Yeah?" he smiled.

With my hand still clenching his shirt, he stood close in front of me. I looked back to find Patch again. He was staring at me now when he hasn't before. I had his attention.

"Nora?" said Elliot, pulling my attention back to him.

With my hand still clenching his shirt, I felt the warmth of his skin through the material and let go. He looked down at me, waiting. I pulled him by the collar bringing his head closer to mine.

I whispered into his ear, "Your plan is working. Just play along. He's walking this way."

I felt him smile. He leaned his forearm against the locker behind me, bringing his face closer to mine. I instinctually stepped back to find myself pressed against the locker.

"Really now?" he smiled seductively.

I hesitated. Being this close to Elliot threw me off guard. I had to collect myself. I found my way to his eyes. "Yeah." I bit my lip, pretending to be shy and blushing for the audience. So do you want to hang out later?"

"After work?"

I nodded.

He brought his other hand up to my face and stroked my jaw lightly with his index finger, smiling at my uncomfortable reaction.

"Sure," he finally answered, stepping back and turning around. "I'll see you later, babe!" he added loudly.

I laughed, at first embarrassed but quickly realising he was playing the game. And it was working. Patch and Marcie immediately noticed Elliot - and then me. They both stared at me, Marcie a little amused and Patch with a careful stare, as they walked past me. I continued smiling, turned around and locked my locker.


	13. Chapter 13: I'm sensitive

**CHAPTER 13:**

"I was thinking that I might fly today  
Just to disprove all the things you say.  
It doesn't take a talent to be mean.  
Your words can crush things that are unseen.  
So please be careful with me, I'm sensitive.

...

I have this theory that if we're told we're bad  
Then that's the only idea we'll ever have.  
But maybe if we are surrounded in beauty  
Someday we will become what we see."

Jewel (I'm sensitive)

* * *

I was on a high: last night I dreamt of Patch's lips against mine and today at school I had his eyes on me more than once. I was visualising my goal and it was starting to come together. Elliot proved to me that his plan really works. All I have to do is find someone to play along with me. I've got nothing against Elliot, it's just that I don't trust him entirely - and he scares me a little.

At Enzo's everyone was packing up shop. I remembered arranging to hang out after work with Elliot during our impromptu performance. It was only part of the game. I knew that but did he know that?

"Hey, babe," I joked when I approached him packing chairs onto tables.

He laughed, "So it worked, right?"

"Yeah, it did," I answered. "About that, we're not really hanging out after work, right?"

He picked up another chair. "Of course not. I just wanted to prove to you that it works. Now you can find someone else to play with," he smiled.

I nodded, glad that we understood each other.

"But you better find someone before tomorrow night. Shaun is having a huge house party and everyone is going to be there. Patch is guaranteed to show up with Marcie. That's your chance to show up with your new guy and make Patch jealous."

"You've already made it look like we're dating when you called me 'babe'. If I show up at the party with another guy I'll look like a slut!" I realised.

"Fine, then I'll go with you if you want."

"That's not what I said."

"Why don't you just say what you're thinking then?" He stopped working and looked at me. "You think I don't see it but I know how you feel about me. You hate being around me. I can tell how uncomfortable I make you. I saw it today. You should've taken coach's offer and moved away from me."

I was taken aback by his sudden truth. How could I respond to that?

He carried on with his work and then, in a matter-of-fact kind of tone, he said, "I don't care how it makes you look. You better find someone else 'cause Patch will never believe we're into each other. The plan will never work."


	14. Chapter 14: Your love is my drug

**CHAPTER 14:**

"Maybe I need some rehab  
Or maybe just need some sleep  
I got a sick obsession  
I'm seeing it in my dreams  
I'm lookin' down every alley  
I'm making those desperate calls  
I'm staying up all night hoping hitting my head against the wall

Because your love, your love, your love is my drug."

Kesha (Your love is my drug)

* * *

"Oh my gosh, Vee!" I gawked. "You look stunning in that skirt. Give me your tan."

She chuckled, "Heck no! I've been working really hard on it. It's not easy lying in the sun for several hours every day."

"Sounds worse than serving tables all day, every day."

She quickly shot me a narrow look. "Don't bitch about it now. I tried to stop you from making the worst decision of the summer."

"Well I'm starting to wonder if going to this party tonight is still such a good decision," I groaned, holding a navy-blue t-shirt against my torso, while looking in the mirror pondering what to wear to Shaun's party.

"Summer plus house party plus you and me equals fun." She jumped backwards on to my bed. "Why is this not a good idea?"

I turned around to face her. "Patch is going to be there... probably."

"Thought you were moving on."

"I don't think I can move on. Not until I know it's really over." I sat on the bed. "It was easier when he was gone. I had no choice _but_ to move on. But now that he's back, the feelings are back."

"Maybe they never left."

I shrugged and smiled in agreement.

"I don't want you to think I don't sympathise with you but think about the way Patch has been treating you since he came back."

"I know, right?" I didn't want her to think I was blinded by love.

The room fell to silence until Vee asked, "Did you two fight before he left?"

"No. I told you, we had a great night and he walked me to my door and kissed me good night. And then I never saw him again."

"It's bizarre."

"There might be one thing that could've ruined the night."

"What?" she asked, curious.

"I might've used the L-word and he might not have used the L-word in return," I answered, a little embarrassed.

Vee's mouth widened in shock. "Holy freakshow!"

I kind of lost my words for a moment. I had to redeem Vee's sympathies. "Maybe he's protecting himself from getting too emotionally involved in the relationship."

"Nora," Vee looked me in the eye, "it's called a relationship. If you don't want to become emotionally involved you should wear a sign that says 'KICK ME! I DON'T HAVE FEELINGS'."

I laughed. "You're right. Something's up. I have to talk to him. I need answers."

An hour later, we arrived at Shaun's house – a double storey covered in white wood-panelling and a dark green roof – just after 7pm. Every window of the ground floor was glowing with the lights on inside the house. When we entered through the front door the music hit us. Kesha's "your love is my drug" song was blaring through the speakers.

We entered the lounge which was filled with familiar faces from school.

"Good luck with your plan. I've got my own business to attend to," Vee said into my ear, then disappeared into the crowded lounge area.

I had to find Patch in this crowded noise. Knowing him, he was probably hanging out somewhere secluded from too much social interaction.

On my way into the kitchen I found the back door. The yard had a few conversations going on. I searched carefully through the darkness to find Patch's face. On a bench under a tree, blonde hair caught my eye. I'd recognise those wide shoulders anywhere.

"Hey," I said, walking up to him.

He turned around and smiled when he saw my face. "Hey, yourself.'

"May I?" I gestured toward the bench.

"Sure, take a seat." He patted the spot next to him.

"I'm so glad Lesley gave us the night off."

"Definitely. I need some chill time," he agreed.

"I'm sorry you can't handle it," I joked. We shared a laugh. "I'm sorry for other things too," I said after a moment of silence.

He looked at me, kind of taken aback. "Like what?"

"The way I've been treating you. I thought I was doing a good job of keeping it to myself. I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm sorry."

He looked at me for a moment in disbelief. "Who's apologising now?" he smirked. I blushed. "Thanks," he said, awkwardly.

"As a peace offering, can I get you a drink?" I asked.

He lit up. "Sure."

"What would you like?"

"Anything you can get."

"Okay, see you in a bit," I smiled and walked off to find the drinks stock.

In the dining room was a bucket filled with ice-water and bottled drinks. On the table were snacks, plastic cups, and a few bottles of alcohol.

What would Elliot drink? Surely he doesn't drink just anything, even though that's what he asked for. I decided on two Cherry Colas. I reached into the bucket to find two cans.

"Mm. You," said a voice behind me.

I stood up. Looking behind me I found Patch leaning against the doorframe with a beer bottle in his hand. His black jeans hung perfectly on his hips and his short-sleeve shirt that only reached halfway down his upper arms gave me a view of his flexed biceps. A flash of heat ran up my body ending in my cheeks.

"Hi," I said over my shoulder. "Where'd you get that?"

"I brought my own six-pack," he replied then took a swig of his beer.

I know all about your six pack.

"Underage drinking is illegal."

"I'm older than I look," he smirked.

"I know," I laughed.

His face went straight. "What do you know?"

"You know," I hinted.

"Please enlighten me," he said, pushing himself off the doorframe and stepping closer to me."

"Come on, Patch. You know what I'm talking about. Do you want me to say it HERE?"

He tilted his head down and raised his eyebrows.

"Fine," I said, then put my hand on his shoulder, stood on my toes and said it into his ear. His scent was intoxicating.

He laughed. "Just because I have classic good looks doesn't mean I'm immortal."

I laughed. "Can we talk?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

"Somewhere more private?" I hinted.

He looked around. "I'll meet you upstairs in two minutes."

I squeezed past him, half-trying not to come in contact with him. I turned the corner and found the staircase. I took every step slowly, trying not to look too eager. I began planning out the conversation I was about to have, in my head. I decided I wasn't going to hesitate kissing him if the urge came up. On second thought, the conversation may never start if I allowed that last bit.


	15. Chapter 15: The knife

**CHAPTER 15:**

"If you ever feel the knife

Running down your spine

Know it's mine."

Zebra and Giraffe (The Knife)

* * *

At last at the top of the stairs, I walked deeper into the partially lit passage. I leaned against the wall and looked at my watch, counting down the seconds till Patch's arrival. A flicker of movement at the staircase caught the corner of my eye.

Patch.

I lost my breath for a second but smiled when he began walking toward me in his calm, unrushed way. Every step made me more nervous than the last. How did my prepared conversation start again?

Before I knew it, Patch had two feet in front of me – two black steel-toed boots.

I looked up, took a breath and opened my mouth. Before I could say a word his hand was at my throat pinning me against the wall.

With a dark intensity in his eyes he spoke slowly: "Solum una monitum: minito intenta puella iterum, ecce ego demetam."

"Wha-?" I managed to get out despite the pressure in my neck.

"Innocentiam simulata," he said, tilting his head to one side.

I was losing consciousness quickly. When I had no response he let go and walked away the same way he'd entered. I gasped for all the air I could get.

"Solum relinquis," he said over his shoulder.

"Patch, what the fuck!" I screamed.

He turned around quickly. My instincts took over and I ran for the nearest open door. I slammed it closed behind me, locked it and moved further into the dark room. It was a bedroom, from the few things I could see in the space. I tried to look for a light switch besides the one right next to the door. Patch beat his fist on the other side of the door. I needed an escape quickly. Patch knew his way around a locked door.

A closed window stood opposite the bedroom door. I rushed over to open it but it wouldn't budge further than a two-finger width. The sliding panel was stuck and Patch's pounding turned into a fidgeting of the lock.

Looking through the window I saw the backyard where Elliot and I sat earlier – and he was still there. I beat the window with my hands. The noise was ineffective. I pulled out my cell phone and dialled his number as I watched and waited for him to answer my call.

He reached inside his pocket, looked at the caller ID and smiled, answering, "Hey."

"Elliot! I'm in trouble. Patch is trying to hurt me. I'm upstairs. Look at the windows for the light of my phone." I frantically waved my phone light in the dark window.

He found it and began running toward the house saying through the phone, "I'm coming. Find something to defend yourself with."

I killed the call and used my phone light to search for a weapon. In a nightstand drawer I found a folding knife. I struggled to expand it but just as I did Patch was in the room. I jumped up from the bed pointing the knife at him. He smirked arrogantly.

The door handle rattled again. "Nora! It's Elliot. Unlock the door. He's not here anymore."

Just as I was about to tell Elliot that Patch was already inside, I heard a voice in my head say _don't say anything_. But why not? I called Elliot to help me. I wanted to scream for help!

_Don't say anything. Don't scream. I will hurt him if you do_.

I gasped. It was Patch. He was talking to my mind.

"Nora!" Elliot called from outside the door.

_One warning: threaten the girl's life again and I will kill you_.

My eyes widened in horror. Was this the same Patch I fell in love with? What the hell happened to him?

He walked across the room to the window, the knife in my hand remaining aimed at him, put his fingers under the unmovable panel and ripped it upward without making a sound. Then he climbed through and disappeared. I ran to the door and unlocked it for Elliot.

"Nora," he said with concern.

I dropped the knife and jolted into his arms, enfolding myself in his protection. I didn't realise how tight I was squeezing him until he asked me if I was okay. I wasn't. I was still trying to come to terms with what just happened.


	16. Chapter 16: Amen

It has definitely been a long time since I last updated but I recently moved from one country to another and that's why I've been too preoccupied to update. But here are another 3 chapters and I really want to thank the following people for their fanship [i.e. comments, story alerts etc]: chocolate-eyed-girl; Vickki; Rawr; TomKaulitzLoverxxx; vickioxo; ; EsemmeTresemme; and iloveyou4.

Please leave any comments you'd like, even suggestions.

Much love, B.

* * *

**CHAPTER 16:**

"Where are my angels?

Where's my golden one?

Where's my hope now that my heroes have gone?

Some are being beaten.

Some are being born.

And some can't tell the difference anymore."

Jewel (Amen)

* * *

_Threaten her._ Who was Patch talking about? I've never threatened anybody in my life! Not even Marcie.

"Nora, you're shaking. You should sit down," Elliot advised, leading me back into the bedroom where I'd ealier tried to run from Patch. Elliot sat me down at the foot of the bed.

_Marcie._ Maybe she's who Patch was talking about. But I never threatened her in the slightest way, never mind threatening her very existence!

Elliot picked up the knife that I'd dropped at the door. "Where did you find this?"

"In the drawer," I pointed to the nightstand at the head of the bed.

With his back to me, he opened the drawer then pulled the bottom of his red golf shirt over his hands and wiped the blade and handle. He folded the knife back into its original position and dropped it into the open drawer, shutting it immediately.

"Do you want me to call the police?" he asked, turning around and sitting next to me.

The police could never do anything to Patch. He's otherworldly. They stand no chance. If Detective Basso was still looking for him, he could find Patch on his own.

"No. I need to call Vee," I said, leaning over Elliot to my phone that was on the pillow. I went through my call log and chose Vee's number. It rang for a while before she finally picked up.

"Hello!" she shouted, the party music downstairs almost drowning her out.

It was no use speaking over the phone but I already knew that. I just had to make sure she answered her phone. I hung up and texted her quickly: **COME UPSTAIRS! URGENT!**

"I hope she gets my message," I said, looking at my phone anxiously.

"Why don't we just go to her?"

"I'm afraid he'll be downstairs."

"Then I'll go downstairs and bring her to you." He said, preparing to get up.

"No!" My reflex caught his forearm. "Don't leave me alone… please."

He sat back and put his arm around me, comforting me.

"There you are," said Vee, peeking through the doorway. I smiled – partly because it was my natural reaction and partly because Vee was my ride home, to safety I hope. "Sorry to disturb you two," she pardoned herself, hiding slight contempt for Elliot. "Nora, my mom just called and she is so P.O. about us being at this party. Long story short, she wants us home now."

"Okay," I simply accepted her made-up story, looked at Elliot with a slight smile then got up and left with Vee.

"Nice exit strategy," I said, once we got to her car.

She opened the driver's door saying, "I wouldn't have used it if you were with Patch instead of Elliot."

I rolled my eyes. "Elliot's not the enemy," I said once I got into the passenger seat.

"And when did this change take place?" She reached for the ignition.

"Officially? Tonight. Let's just get on the road then I'll tell you." I wanted to get far away from the party. Far away from danger. Far away from Patch.

She reversed into the road and began the drive to my place. "Okay. Tell me now."

I took in a deep breath, not really wanting to relive what happened. I kind of hoped it all happened in my head. Like those times that Jules made me see images in my mind that I believed was happening. "I was talking to Patch... and then we went upstairs." I hated thinking of the next part. It put thorns in my throat.

"And then?" she asked, anxiously. I shouldn't have lead her on to think this story had a happy ending.

"And then he choked me against the wall... and then he threatened me."

"What!" she cried. "Fuck that! I warned him. Now I'm going to fuck him up! I'm going back."

"No, Vee!" I shouted. "It's your fault! _You_ threatened Marcie!"

She brought the car to a stop under a street light. She fumed with anger as she clenched the steering wheel with both hands.

"_Threaten the girl's life again and I will kill you._ That's what he said." I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "I think he was talking about Marcie." Vee was quiet. "Elliot... helped me. That's why he was there."

Vee looked at me, struggling to say something. Her anger seemed to be replaced with remorse. "I'm sorry," she whispered, taking my hand.

"You and I need to stay away from Patch and Marcie," I said with my head bowed. Vee nodded and squeezed my hand. "Can we _please_ go home now?"


	17. Chapter 17: Eyes on fire

**CHAPTER 17:**

"I'll seek you out, flay you alive.

One more word and you won't survive.

And I'm not scared of your stolen power;

See right through you any hour.

...

I'm taking it slow, feeding my flame,

shovelling the cards of your game.

And just in time, in the right place, suddenly I will play my ace."

Blue Foundation (Eyes on Fire)

* * *

The alarm screamed next to me. 07:00. My hand reached over to turn it off. Saturday morning. I sighed.

I rolled out of bed and rubbed my eyes as I slugged my way into the shower. The cold water hit me first, waking me up from my sleepy state. The warm water kicked in soon after. I hoped to wash the fear from my mind and the memory of last night's ordeal down the drain.

As I wiped my hands over my eyes I found myself choking back sobs... and then I gave in. Hot tears burned my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I never really dealt with last night's events except run from it.

I left the house by 8am to catch a bus to Enzo's for my double shift. I'd been waiting for 15 minutes already when I started getting worried. If the bus wasn't picking me up in the next 10 minutes I was going to be late for work. I really wished Vee could've taken me to work but I told her I'd find my own way from now on.

An old, dark blue Honda Ballade pulled up at the bus stop and a blonde mop of hair stuck its head out the window. His great white smile contrasted with his black sunglasses. Elliot.

"Very nice! How much?" he accented in his best Borat voice.

What a goof! I laughed. "One dollar."

"Get in!" he grinned then reached over to unlock the passenger door.

"You're going to Enzo's, right?" I asked, holding the door handle.

"Of course. When do I ever have the day off?'

I opened the door and climbed inside.

"Seatbelt, please." He gave me a cheesy look.

_Are you serious? _ read my face.

"Your safety is important to me."

I laughed at him then put my seatbelt on as instructed, and we were moving. "Thanks for the lift."

"No problem," he smiled.

"So what time did you leave the party last night?" I asked.

"About eleven," he shrugged.

"Was it good?"

"It was all right. Pretty boring after you left, although a few people did ask where my girlfriend _Nora_ went," he said with a huge grin.

I gasped before laughing. "What did you tell them?"

"I gave them drama. That's what they wanted. I told them you and your ex had a fight at the party and that's why you just took off."

"What a shitty boyfriend you are. You stayed at the party instead of going after your _upset girlfriend_."

"I didn't want to act like I was whipped! But it ended well 'cause then I acted like I was all upset about you taking off. So I used that as an excuse to ditch the party."

I shook my head. "So sly."

"Vee's the sliest of us all! That attempt at ditching me last night... _pfft_!"

I giggled. Of course it looked bad because Elliot already knew that I wanted to go home and that it was me trying to get hold of Vee, not the other way around. "Sorry 'bout that. I explained everything to her."

"Does that mean she'll stop giving me the evil eye?"

"You noticed that, huh?" I laughed.

He widened his eyes while still keeping them on the road as if to say _how could I NOT notice that?_

Much later at Enzo's during the lunch rush, Vee popped in asking for a table for two.

"Hmm. And who'll be joining you?" I smiled curiously, as I walked her to the table.

"Well I didn't get around to telling you last night but I met this super-hot guy at the party. Fortunately we swapped numbers before I left to rescue you." She tried to guilt me with her eyes. "Anyway, he called me up this morning and asked me to lunch... here," she gleamed with excitement. "Will you be our waitress? I'll make sure he gives you a huge tip!"

"How can I say no to money... and my best friend?" I chuckled. "Can't wait to meet him."

"You'll die! He's so hot!" she bragged.

I made my rounds at my two other tables while waiting for Vee's date to pitch.

"I think he's arrived," said Elliot as we crossed paths while going to and coming from the kitchen.

I put down the dirty plates and turned around, wiping my hands on my apron. A tall stringy guy with a hawk nose and shaggy, blue-black hair took a seat opposite Vee. I watched her respond with a flirtatious smile.

She began looking around, probably for me. When our eyes lined up, I beckoned her with my index finger. I imagined her making an excuse to leave the table suddenly, before letting her spy me going into the ladies room.

"Did you see him?' she grinned widely after flinging the door open.

Yeah," I nodded.

"What do you think?"

"I don't think it's such a good idea. Let me explain. That's Rixon."

"How'd you know?"

"Because he's Patch's best friend. The chances of you running into Patch and, by default, Marcie has just increase by a million per cent! We agreed to stay _away_ from them for our own safety." I spoke seriously.

"Geez. This really is a small town. What if I explain the situation to him so that he makes sure that neither you nor I have to be within a hundred feet of Patch, _and by default, Marcie_?"

"I don't think you understand how serious the situation is, Vee."

Vee looked at me after a moment of internal conflict. "What do you want me to do? Should we stop living our lives just because six degrees of separation is proving to be a valid theory right now?" And then her tone went sombre. "Do you want me to cancel this date right now?"

Vee walked into Enzo's with happiness for days and it all changed when I discovered who her date was. Maybe Rixon _would_ help us steer clear of Patch and Marcie. And maybe Rixon and Vee might not even last beyond a few months. Who am I to take away my friend's happiness just because of this coincidental occurrence?

I held her arms. "No. Don't do that. I overreacted."

"It's okay, babe. I totally understand. Let me enjoy him while I can. It's not like we're getting married." She hugged me. _Told you._

I laughed. "Just make sure Rixon knows the situation. Just as a precaution."

"Yeah, like a condom," she retorted as she pushed open the door.

"What?" I asked, shocked.

"What?" she said jokingly, before vanishing from my sight.

Once Vee and Rixon finished their meal and paid the bill, Vee slipped her car keys into my hand.

"There's no valet service here," I joked, not sure what Vee meant by this gesture.

"Rixon's giving me a ride. You can borrow the car for the weekend. It's parked across the road on the corner of Tenth Avenue."

"You sure you won't need it?" I asked, surprised. Vee winked. "Thanks. I'll bring it back tomorrow after work."

"Sure thing. See ya," she smiled, taking Rixon's arm and walking toward the door.

"Enjoy!" I cried.

Private transport. There's nothing so liberating! I pocketed the keys. I closed the table on the computer and counted the tip.

"Nice tip! Cash _and_ car keys? Great job," Elliot said sarcastically as he moved in beside me to punch an order into the computer. I pulled a single from the tip I'd just counted and stuffed it into his back pocket. "Aah! Stop violating me," he joked in a very blasé tone then looked behind him. "What did you do?" he asked, pulling the dollar from his pocket.

"It's a dollar from Vee's tip. We both owe you," I said over his shoulder, then walked away to clean up my table.

"Shouldn't that be two dollars then?" he joked, returning his attention to the computer.

Finally, closing time was upon us. The remaining staff tidied up shop and left one by one after being cashed up for the day. After my turn, I went into the staffroom to collect my handbag. As I walked toward the entrance of Enzo's, Elliot offered to walk me to Vee's car. I thought I might be fine on my own till I saw the street light was out on the corner of 10th Avenue.

We walked the length of the block then prepared to cross over 10th to Vee's car which was waiting on the other side. On my second stride off the sidewalk, Elliot took hold of my upper arms and pulled me back swiftly into him just as a vehicle and its fierce wind blasted past us.

Before I could get my breath back, my eyes seeked the cause of the disruption. The silhouette of a Jeep was clear but not its colour as it passed speedily under the streetlights. It couldn't be.

I let go of the breath I'd been holding.

"Did you get the number plate?" I asked.

"No. I was a little busy," he replied sarcastically. "But that car looks familiar."

"I looked up at him. "You don't think..."

He twitched an eyebrow as if to really consider the possibility that Patch was driving the car, that looked very similar to his own, that was speeding down 10th Avenue just as I happened to walk across it.

"No, Elliot!" I broke away from his hold. "This is just a coincidence." I had to believe it was in order to keep my fears at bay. I straightened out my jersey. "I'll be fine from here. I'll see you tomorrow." I tried to forge braveness as I walked the rest of the way to the car with Elliot watching me.


	18. Chapter 18: Make me wanna die

**CHAPTER 18:**

"Eyes, your eyes,  
I can see in your eyes, your eyes.

You make me wanna die.  
I'll never be good enough.  
You make me wanna die.  
And everything you love  
Will burn up in the light.  
And everytime I look inside your eyes  
You make me wanna die."

The Pretty Reckless (Make me wanna die)

* * *

Sunday morning arrived. A light rain brought an ominous mood to the day. The past two nights have given me a total of six hours' sleep. I tried to keep my eyes open while serving my morning patrons. I could use a few more cups of coffee myself.

Elliot and I used the corner of the computer's marble-top counter to play noughts-and-crosses while we waited for new tables. He drew an 'X' in the middle and I thought out my strategy to beat him.

"He's here." He said softly to me.

"Who?" I asked, looking up and around.

"Why do you ask me who if you're going to look up anyway?"

At table 3, six-feet from the entrance, sat 'he' alone. He took off his ball cap and shook his black hair loose, water droplets jumping off. He brought his hands together against his mouth and rested his elbows on the table. Then his eyes pierced mine and fear crept in. My head faced forwards and I considered my safety in a public place.

"I'll deal with it. Don't worry."

"Elliot, don't upset him," I said, worried.

"Don't worry. I'll be civil." He walked away.

I tried to watch the conversation inconspicuously but when Patch's stare caught me out, I turned away completely and walked into the kitchen to be helpful. I figured there was enough noise in there to keep my mind from thinking of the conversation happening outside or the possibility that Patch was here to finish the job he failed to do last night. A touch to my elbow frightened me out of my preoccupation.

"It's done. And he'll leave after he's done with his coffee," Elliot said from behind me, over my shoulder.

"What did he say? What did _you_ say?" I urged to know.

"I told him that what happened last night was not cool and he played dumb. We both know it was his Jeep last night. At least he _tried_ to act surprised. He even had the surprised face."

How can Elliot read Patch's face? I tried for a really long time to no avail. "He looked surprised? How do you know?"

"He did the eyebrow thing," Elliot said, lifting the corner of his eyebrow with his index finger.

"You're right. He's playing dumb."

By four o'clock I'd finished work at Enzo's and made my way to Vee's house to return her car. I pulled up in her drive way and killed the engine. I tippy-toed through the rain to her front door and rang the bell. In less than ten seconds she answered the door.

"Hey, babe. Come on in," she said, hugging me as I stepped a foot inside. "How was work?"she asked as I handed her the car keys.

"Daunting."

"What happened?" she asked as we entered her kitchen and she switched on the kettle.

I took a seat. "Patch came in for coffee this morning."

"And what happened?"

"Nothing. Elliot served him and that was that. It was just scary seeing him again after Friday night, you know."

"Hope he's not getting a thrill by stalking his prey," she said, blending some coffee and sugar together in three mugs.

"You making for your mom too?" I asked.

"No. Rixon's here," she pointed toward the lounge area.

Rixon. Patch's best friend.

"I'm going to say hi," I decided.

"No problem. I'll bring the coffee in when I'm done."

I walked toward the lounge and turned 90 degrees left to look at the couch. There lay Rixon in a red hoody and black jeans.

"Rixon," I greeted.

"Hey, Nora. How's it going?" his Irish accent was as strong as I remembered it.

I thought about it. "I'm fine. Could I talk to you about something _privately_?" I tried to be as allusive to our little secret as possible.

"Sure." He jumped up from the couch and entered the door to the garage with me. "What's wrong?"

I tried to piece together the sentence in my mind first. "What's going on with Patch? He's been ignoring me and being mean... He threatened me." I added, to minimise my sounding like a teen in a petty relationship feud.

Rixon looked away from me then sighed. "Does he act like he doesn't remember you?"

"Yes! That's so damn childish! He's _so_ _much_ older than I am. He should be the mature one! Rixon, I don't know what happened. Did I do something wrong?" I was agitated by this confusion.

"No," he shook his head. After a pause of thought, deliberating what he was about to tell me, he began: "Three weeks ago, he shows up at Bo's Arcade, as usual, for a bit of poker. And later we get to talking and I ask him what he's been up to. His reply was kind of shoddy 'cause he could hardly remember. I thought he'd been with you that night and he seemed confused by my suggestion. I asked him about redoing biology this summer with his old bio-partner. He seriously didn't remember your name when I cleared it up for him. Instead he started talking about his girlfriend, Marcie."

"What!" I fumed, feeling betrayed. "But him and I were still..."

"I know. I know," he calmed me down. "That's the thing. Immortals have the best memory. Their memory _is _immortal so I couldn't understand why he'd forget major details like that. Unless..."

"Unless what, Rixon?" I demanded.

"Unless he really doesn't remember you."

"How is that possible, Rixon?" I trembled.

"I don't know. It's an anomaly."

"Like falling for a fallen angel," I tried to bite back a tear.

He pulled me in and comforted me. "Nora, maybe that's just it. He's immortal. You're human. What future did you really have?" I choked back a sob. "Sure, he's good-looking and... plays a good hand of poker, but maybe this is the sign that you needed to get on with your life. Try dating some human boys, like that kid at the diner."

"Ew."

"Or not. Either way, by the sounds of it, I'd stay away from Patch if I was you. He gets aggravated pretty quickly and he will remove the cause just as quickly."


	19. Chapter 19: Figure 09

Don't think all is revealed. There is lots more to come. Thanks to GetInMeTomKaulitz, saudie and BarbieBeatdown for your fanship. Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 19:**

"And now you've become a part of me,  
You'll always be right here.  
You've become a part of me,  
You'll always be my fear.

...

Never goes away.

Never goes away."

Linkin Park (Figure.09)

* * *

Elliot and I are playing noughts-and-crosses at Enzo's when in walks Patch hiding under his ball cap. The diner quiets down in his dark presence.

Elliot and I stare carefully trying not to arouse his interest. But suddenly I feel Patch's eyes on me and a smirk forms at the corner of his mouth. There it was again: fear. Cold fear shivers down my body.

At almost exactly the same time that I hint at moving away, Patch begins running... toward me!

I start speeding for an exit. There's an exit from the kitchen. And my quivering legs begin running for the kitchen door.

I slam it behind me and run through the cookers toward the exit. On my way I pick up a huge chopping knife. If that bastard catches me I have to chop something off!

I turn a right-hand corner and find a long passage. At the end lies the exit. I run for my dear life and slam against the door, having no time to slow myself down. I pull down the lever and escape with haste.

Suddenly I'm hit in the stomach with a stabbing pain. When I bring my hand to where it hurts I feel a warm wetness, and look down to find someone's hand still holding onto the blade as it sticks out of my stomach. The blood drips onto my white shoes.

A dark figure emerges from around the corner and pulls the knife violently from my body. I get light-headed and fall to my knees in the piercing sunlight, my weapon falling from my grip. All I can see is whiteness and this dark figure. It must be Patch. How did he know where this exit was?

I try to look up at him but the sunlight burns my eyes. "Patch..." I choke on my final plea. "Please don't kill me." A tear rolls down my cheek and falls to the bloody ground.

Suddenly I woke up, throwing my duvet completely off the bed. I gasped for air as I searched my stomach for the knife. It was gone. It was only a dream.


	20. Chapter 20: Absence of fear

I have been waiting about two months to write this chapter. Please don't panic! Patch will be back in the picture. I had the day to myself so I wrote and uploaded this chapter all in one go. Thanks to coreysfallen and NcisKaitlin for your fanship. Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 20:**

"Inside my skin there is this space.  
It twists and turns;  
It bleeds and aches.

Inside my heart there's an empty room.  
It's waiting for lightning;  
It's waiting for you

I am wanting and  
I am needing you  
To be here  
Inside the absence of fear

...

My bones call to you in a separate skin.  
I make myself translucent  
To let you in...

...

There is the splendour of this  
Secret inside of me  
And it knows that you're no stranger,  
You're my gravity."

Jewel (Absence of fear)

* * *

I caught the bus to school for another Monday class. I was horrified to find my locker with a yellow page sticky-taped to it reading 'SLUT!' in big, red marker. I looked down the corridor for a culprit but only found students snickering as they walked past.

I scrunched up the paper and opened my locker to get my text books. On my way to biology, I threw the yellow paper ball into the trash and entered class. Patch and Marcie were in their seats and for a moment the fear that I felt in my dream kicked in. I took in a breath and walked bravely past Patch's table.

Elliot hadn't arrived yet so I sat at the table alone. As I neatly placed my books on my side of the desk, Marcie turned around.

"Hey, Nora." I looked up. "I heard you hooked up with two guys in one night. What a dirty little whore!" she said, almost trying to make it sound cute and impressive.

Is that why my locker was vandalised this morning? Why would someone make these lies up? "What are you talking about?"

"At Shaun's party! Don't you remember?" she laughed. "People said they saw Patch and Elliot go upstairs with you. The ex I can understand but your bio partner? Guess sluts really are desperate."

The yellow paper was Marcie's work, I should've known. I was fuming with rage and if looks could kill, Marcie would be incinerated before my very eyes. It took all my strength to restrain myself from jumping over the table and throttling her neck immediately.

In my peripheral vision I saw Patch turn his head to look at me. Was he waiting for me to disobey his warning so that he could eliminate me? Patch, the guy who doesn't remember me, thus having no qualms about destroying me. That was the switch that turned my rage into cold fear.

My head dropped wishing it could recoil from his gaze. I felt repressed by Patch and Marcie's simultaneous tyrannical reign over my actions. I wanted to punch them both in the nose and then run out of the room as fast as I could.

I packed my books together and left my desk speedily for the door. Just then Coach walked in.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked with a cup of coffee in hand and a clipboard under his arm.

"I forgot something in my locker," I said, whooshing past him and down the hall.

I decided to catch up today's lesson at home. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

I caught the bus into town so that I could catch a second bus to my house. It was the quickest way home.

As the bus drove into town I noticed Elliot walking away from his parked car toward the basketball courts next to the leisure centre. I pushed the 'stop' button and rushed to exit the bus.

I walked to where I'd seen Elliot last and found him on a bench fitting on a pair of white roller blades. They were badly scratched and worn.

"You skate?" I asked, surprised.

He looked up, then smiled. "Yeah, why? Do you?"

"Not since I was five."

"It's like riding a bike."

"That was also a long time ago."

"Nora, you're such a loser!" he laughed. "Come on, skate with me."

"With what? Are we each going to use one skate?" I laughed.

"They rent skates at the centre. Let's get you a pair," he decided and got up from the bench, rolling comfortably next to me. As we walked into the centre, he asked, "Why aren't you in class?"

I shrugged. I didn't want to tell him what people had been saying about us. "I just... I didn't want to be there."

"Don't worry. I feel like that all the time."

"I thought you'd be at work when I didn't see you in class today. Never thought you'd be here."

"Get used to it. I'll be anywhere than where I'm supposed to be," he smiled. "What's your shoe size?"

"Nine."

He leaned against the rentals counter as we approached it and asked the blue-haired girl for "a ladies nine and wrist guards".

"What size wrists would you like?" asked the blue-haired girl.

Elliot took my hand and straightened it out over his. "Medium," he replied back to the girl.

"What size are you?" I asked.

"X.L. But I don't use wrist guards," he boasted.

We sat down at a bench close by after settling the payment. Elliot decided I was taking too long and buckled up my other boot while I was busy on the left one. I put on my wrist guards and high-fived him.

"Okay. Help me up please?" I asked, once we were done. I don't know how confident I was in asking a person balancing on wheels to help me up when I was in the same situation, But I got the feeling that Elliot was quite advanced when it came to skating. He controlled his skates as if they were sneakers.

I skated slowly nearby the bench to get the feel of it again. Once I was comfortable, Elliot took me outside to the park, next to the courts, where he preferred to skate. The trees arched over the wide, long paths and the wind blew lightly. It was a beautiful day.

Elliot skated circles around me while I tried to look cool skating slowly. I really didn't want to bail in public, and not in front of Elliot either.

"Do you remember how to stop?" he asked as he skated backwards while talking to me.

_Ummm..._ "Of course."

"Good. Then let's race," he suggested.

"No! You're way more advanced than I am and you don't have these naff skates on." I decided to blame it on the skates.

"I'll give you a head start."

"How much of a head start?"

"Ten seconds."

I grinned and began taking wide strides to pick up speed. I figured even if I couldn't remember how to stop, I would slow down eventually on this straight path.

I heard Elliot counting down the seconds as the distance between us increased.

"Zero. I'm coming!" he shouted from far behind me.

I kept my speed up, until I saw a crowd of people ahead occupying the same path I was on. I stopped striding, hoping that the friction between the ground and the wheels would slow me down. But I was getting closer and closer and I didn't see myself stopping in time. I was going to crash into these people if I didn't stop soon.

"Nora, stop!" Elliot shouted from 12 feet behind me.

"I don't think I can!"

"Jump onto the grass!"

To the right of road the grass was thicker and I knew it would be a softer landing, although embarrassing, if I should fall. I leaned to my right trying to get closer to the grass then, instead of jumping over the bumpy transition between grass and cement, I froze and my wheels hit the bump before the grass and I went tumbling across the lawn.

"Why didn't you jump?" Elliot asked, a few feet away from me.

I turned onto my back. "How embarrassing!" I cringed, covering my face.

Elliot got down on the grass and rolled the rest of the distance between us, mocking me. "I know, right?" he said once he was laying to my left-hand side, on his back as well. "I can't believe I did the same thing," he joked. I laughed with shame. "Don't worry. Nobody saw."

I picked my head up to look at the crowd that I'd avoided to find them dispersed further along the path. "And nobody got hurt. Well..."

"I thought you said you know how to stop on skates," he teased.

"I used to know... when I was five." We laughed.

"You don't have to say that just to impress me, Nora." I laughed at that foolish suggestion. "You already have."

Luckily we were both looking up at the trees when he said that. His words caught me off guard.

I had a tingling in the pit of my stomach. I moved my left hand toward him, searching for his hand. I found it, warm and relaxed at his side, and slid my fingers between his thumb and forefinger.

From the corner of my eye I saw him turn his head to look at me. I gulped, then looked at him with a slight smile on his face.

I shuffled my body closer to him, keeping my eyes on his. He smirked and let go of my hand as he used his right hand to rest his head on. I got onto my side, pulled myself closer to him, then rested my head in the triangular space above his bicep.

He took his hand away from his head and placed it on the back of my shoulder. Then he moved his face down 97% of the way before I completed the last 3% with a warm kiss to his lips.

I don't know what came over me to possess the courage to let my pride fall away and kiss him. I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I'd given him such a hard time about invading my space and here I was invading his... and really liking it.


	21. Chapter 21: Your song

Thanks to coreysfallen and chocolate-eyed-girl for your feedback.

* * *

**CHAPTER 21:**

"When will I see you once again?  
So, not to forget,  
I keep a picture of you in my head.  
And your eyes see right through me still.

...

You've grown on me  
And I'll sing along with you.

...

And I love the way you sing your song  
La la la la la la la la la  
And I love the way you hum along."

Just Jinger (Your song)

* * *

Why couldn't I stop thinking about him?

Up until yesterday I couldn't stand the thought of Elliot in close proximity to me. Had he grown on me? I hated to admit that he had and, worse than that, that I liked being close to him... really close to him... kissing him.

That single kiss lingered on my lips long after. I even thought about it the next morning at school. Would things be weird between the two of us today? I really hoped not. He'd become so easy to be around since my first day of work at Enzo's.

As I walked to class with my books in hand, I ran into Elliot. Before I could think of how to greet him, he flashed me a smile and swung his arm around my shoulders.

"Hey," is all he said and escorted me to class.

Easy. No hesitation. That was Elliot.

I was a little bit nervous trying to fight my sudden conscious attraction to him. His grey t-shirt didn't help the battle as it failed to hide the contours of his chest.

As we walked side-by-side through biology class, every student couldn't help but stare. Maybe it had something to do with the rumour that Marcie started.

Or not.

I tried to capture some of Elliot's overflowing confidence so that I could walk to our table as if the stares didn't matter.

The class settled after Coach entered the room. He gave us the task of checking the heartbeats-per-minute and blood pressure of our partners. I remembered when Vee and I did this assignment a couple of months back.

One partner had to lie on the lab desk for 3 minutes before the other partner could record the beat count. The next step would be to check the blood pressure.

"Okay. I'll go first!" Elliot offered, sliding easily onto the desk.

I smiled at his playfulness. "All right then. I know it's a little tough for you but you have to be still for three _whole_ minutes. That means no talking."

He zipped his lips, closed his eyes and relaxed on his back.

While he wasn't looking, I took the chance to check him out. His hair had fallen away from his ears and I noticed he'd pierced at least one ear. I followed the length of his muscular arm to his hand. I had the urge to hold it like I did in the park.

Three minutes were up and I put my index and middle finger together against the left side of his neck where I found his pulse beating hard against my finger tips. I counted for a minute then recorded the number.

He sat up to face me and held out his right arm. I tied the blood pressure band around his bulging bicep and felt his right hand sneakily clutch my hip.

"You're supposed to relax," I smiled, picking up the pump.

"_You _need to relax, Nora." Then his left hand grasped my other hip.

I squeezed the pump rapidly in my clammy palm. I felt Elliot's eyes (and hands) on me.

"When the patient's arm goes numb, it's a good time to stop and release the pressure."

I broke out of my trance and breathed as I released the pressure in the band. I'd been put under a spell by Elliot's seductive touch. I undid the band after scribbling down some made up number.

"Do you want to do it again?" he smirked.

"Do what?"

"The blood pressure."

"No," I automatically responded. "I got it."

"Okay," he hopped off the table. "Your turn." Then he grabbed me by the hips and popped me on to the table, in front of him. "Let's do your blood pressure first," he told me as he strapped the navy-blue band around my bicep.

He held the pump in his hand for a moment as I waited for him to begin. I looked up to ask what was keeping him, when he surprised me with a quick kiss to the lips. He pulled away, looked at me then smiled. I couldn't help but return a flushed smile.

He completed the blood pressure check flawlessly then wrote down the reading.

"Do it again," I said.

"The blood pressure?"

"No. The other thing," I hinted.

He smiled when he caught on, then stood up against the desk with my legs on either side of him. He put his hands on the table on either side of my thighs and leaned closer to me. He wasn't going to move in all the way. It was up to me.

He was less than an inch away from me. I've waited for this since we kissed yesterday in the park. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him slowly.

"Is that a new method for checking one's pulse, Mr Saunders?" said Coach, his voice only a few feet away.

Elliot quickly moved away and we both saw Coach standing at the corner of our table. Elliot thought quick on his feet. "Yes. It's modern science. I'm still conducting further tests though."

"Test that elsewhere. In this class, you do it my way," Coach said with his hands behind his back.

"Yes, sir!" Elliot saluted.

I let out an embarrassed laugh once Coach had moved away.

"Let's check your pulse now," Elliot said, rubbing his hands together.

"Oh, I think it's working," I mumbled, lying down on the table.

Elliot took a seat next to me. He checked his watch counting down the seconds, and I watched him.

"Stop checking me out," he faked annoyance.

"Your eyes are so blue," I remarked.

"Why, thank you," he fluttered his eyelashes. I giggled.

After Elliot took my pulse count, as if perfectly timed, Coach announced, "Switch partners! Those that are the patients, remain on the tables. Doctors, please move one table down. If you're at the back, move to the front tables."

I watched Elliot leave me for the front desk, and when I looked back to where he had been seated before leaving, I found Patch looking down at me with his black eyes.


	22. Chapter 22: Krwling

I deeply apologise for taking so long to upload some new chapters. Besides having character and narrative development problems, I was job hunting and it was a very stressful time. But I really have to thank all of you for the fanship support. You kept me motivated to keep writing during such a tense time: xDiaryoftheDeadx, chocolate-eyed-girl, awesome4evah, GetInMeTomKaulitz, hannahxthexballerina, twilight fan 3694, Tabitha Marie Collins, worldofwords97, PoppyBear, bluebloodsrockandisthebest, and Imagination-x33. So here are two more chapters, busy on the next one. Happy reading, guys.

* * *

**CHAPTER 22:**

"Crawling in my skin,  
These wounds they will not heal.  
Fear is how I fall,  
Confusing what is real.

There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface,  
Consuming, confusing.  
This lack of self control I fear is never ending,  
Controlling. I can't seem to find myself again.  
My walls are closing in."

Linkin Park (Krwling [the Reanimation version])

* * *

Patch's black eyes seemed to pin me down against the steel-top table. The same black eyes that had caught me staring at him in my dream which resulted in my death. I was immobilised by fear.

"Was this _your_ doing?" I asked in a slightly trembling voice.

"What do you mean?" he asked flatly, taking a seat.

"Did you _give_ Coach McConaughy the idea to suddenly switch partners?" My voice trembled with every word as if I were walking on broken glass by talking to him.

Patch sat relaxed on his seat with his arms crossed over his chest and his heels hooked on the bar between the stool's legs. "He has a brilliant mind," he said mockingly. "This is all his idea."

I spoke softer, almost to myself, as if I were afraid my back-chatting would set him off, "No, it's not. It yours. It's your mind... thing... again. Just like you did at the party. Just like you did three months ago when we first met." I turned my head to the left, to find him looking at me coldly. "Don't you remember?" I asked, hoping to get through to him. Maybe if he could remember me he would have less of an urge to kill me.

His cold eyes remained on me. "No," he replied, unmoved.

I turned my head straight again, staring at the white ceiling, then closed my eyes trying to prevent the despair from escaping me.

But I couldn't. I felt tingling waves ripple up toward my eyes, escaping in teardrops. My mouth stiffened in an effort to keep a straight face. And then I couldn't hold it anymore and I choked back a sob as tears rolled over my temples. I covered my face with my hands as a last resort. "Please... don't... kill... me," I managed between sobs.

The hot tears continued to expel from my eyes and my hands attempted to gather them before they could escape under the boundaries of my palms.

The noise of the classroom slowly faded and I felt a calming buzz drape over me.

_I'm not going to hurt you._

I breathed easier now.

_Open your eyes._

I removed my hands while wiping the wetness from around my eyes.

_Look at me._

I turned my head to look at Patch. The coldness had gone from his stare, replaced by a silent, neutral look straight at me.

"You did it again," I said calmly.

"You've got to be relaxed if I'm going to do this lab correctly. I don't want to fail summer school," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

Something resembling a laugh escaped my throat.

"Shh..." he hushed me, looking at the watch above the blackboard.

Three whole minutes went by without a word between the two of us. I had had Patch in my company for three whole minutes, and instead of getting answers for everything that's happened until now, I couldn't bring myself to disturb the peace we'd had so far.

Peace. Improvement.

Besides, Patch gave me the feeling that he wasn't going to do any talking. So I let him finish the lab on me while I monitored him carefully. Maybe he'd talk if I allowed the opportunity.

But he never did... until:

"Done," he spoke flatly, as if the entire five minutes was the worst time spent.

I hopped off the desk and awkwardly glanced at him one more time, hoping he'd have a reaction. _Talk again, please!_ But he didn't and I sat down when he'd gotten up and, oddly enough, settled himself on the table.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a little confused by his participation.

"Doing the assignment. Come on, do me," he smirked at the slip of his innuendo.

My brow crinkled. "You don't have a heart," I said.

Patch held his hand to where his heart should've been and replied, "That really hurt."

"You know what I mean. You don't have a pulse," I said softer.

He looked at me, silent.

I grabbed the lab sheet I'd used for Elliot's readings and looked it over eagerly. "I'll just put in the same numbers for you as I wrote for Elliot... tweak them, of course."

"How would you know?" he said.

"Well, you and Elliot are roughly the same height and build... well," I paused to accurately compare their builds. Elliot was slightly buffer... not that I noticed or anything. "Yeah, you guys are similar in _those_ ways so it only makes sense that your figures would be nearly identical. Your numbers, not _those_ figures." I couldn't believe I was getting flustered in front of him!

Patch had sat back up at this point, then asked while sitting on the edge of the table, "How would you know if I had a pulse or not?"

I looked up at him from the paper I'd still been supposedly studying, and replied. "Think about it, how _would_ I know?" He put on a debonair thinking face. I stood up next to him, set my hand down on the table, and paused before leaning slightly closer as if trying to keep the secret between us. "I wish I had a scar on my back so that you could see my memories too." Our eyes locked.


	23. Chapter 23: 5 years time

**CHAPTER 23:**

"And there'll be sun, sun, sun all over our bodies;  
And sun, sun, sun all down our necks;  
And sun, sun, sun all over our faces;  
And sun, sun, sun - so what the heck!

...

And it was fun, fun, fun when we were drinking;  
It was fun, fun, fun when we were drunk;  
And it was fun, fun, fun when we were laughing;  
It was fun, fun, fun, oh it was fun.

Oh well, I look at you and say  
It's the happiest that I've ever been.  
And I'll say I no longer feel I have to be James Dean.  
And she'll say  
'Yah, well, I feel all pretty happy too'  
And I'm always pretty happy when I'm just kicking back with you."

Noah and The Whale (5 Years Time)

* * *

Vee had convinced Elliot and I to join her and Rixon at the beach later during the week. It was a sunny Thursday afternoon and Elliot and I had the day off from work.

I'd packed a beach towel, costume and small foldable sunhat into a bright pink gym bag before school and got a lift to the beach from Elliot after school. He kept me entertained with his jokes and silly faces involving his black aviator sunglasses.

Once we'd arrived, I changed into my beach attire in a nearby public toilet and chucked everything else into Elliot's car.

"Aren't you going to change?" I asked, noticing he was still in the same shorts and t-shirt he'd worn to school.

"If by _change _you mean _going nude_ then, yes," he said.

I looked on, speechless.

He registered my shock and responded with, "This is not a nudist beach?"

"No!" I laughed.

"Oh," he said, a little disappointed and embarrassed. "Guess there'll be no swimming for me then."

"Are you serious?" I asked gravely.

"No," he laughed at me. We started walking toward the beach when he said, "I know how badly you want to see my body. I can't let you down."

I laughed, blushed a little at the thought of seeing what had been hiding under those everyday t-shirts, and felt his arm sling around my shoulders to pulled me into his side. I responded with an arm across his back and my hand clutching his hip on the other end.

After a few minutes of walking along the beach searching for my best friend and her boyfriend, we found Rixon lazing under a bright blue umbrella.

A cold, wet hand gripped my right hand as it sat warmly against Elliot's palm. I looked down and behind to find Vee pulling our hands apart and holding each of our hands in hers. She stood between the two of us, giving us a wide smile and becoming the connector between Elliot and me.

"Vee!" I said excitedly and gave her a hug.

"Hey, babe!" she said over my shoulder. "It's about time you got here. I've had to look fabulous all on my own." And she gave a hip-out model pose.

"Sorry, but some of us have summer school."

"Now whose fault is that?" she responded, sarcastically. "Hi, Elliot," she said, after turning around to face him, with a slight touch to his arm for acknowledgement.

She lead us to Rixon, who was only about twenty feet away and glistening with sun lotion.

"Hello, love," he addressed Vee, behind his black, oval-shaped sunglasses.

"Rick," she called him, "Nora and Elliot have finally joined us."

Rixon got up from his towel to greet us. "Hey, Nora," he said, making us fist-bump before moving on to a firm handshake with Elliot.

Elliot and I dropped our clothes, shoes and towels into a pile. He'd stripped down to the tan-coloured shorts he'd been wearing the whole day and shook his ruffled hair. And that was when I realised I had been right about Elliot – he was beefy and well-built.

I noticed Vee had been looking extensively at the same landscape I had just been looking at. Although concealed behind her glasses, I knew she had lust in her eyes.

"_Wow!_" she mouthed, squeezing sun lotion into her hand, when she found me looking at her. I chuckled knowing that she could only remain objective when Elliot was topless.

"Oil me up!" Elliot requested looking at the bottle of sun lotion in Vee's hands.

Vee stared contemplatively at Elliot, then took one step toward him and slapped the lotion she'd had in her hand onto his chest and said, "All yours, Nora."

I stood nervously in front of Elliot before I began spreading the lotion outwards. Elliot looked on quietly, smiling. As I got nearer to his nipples he covered each one with an index finger.

"I feel so vulnerable," he said in a feminine voice.

I laughed and rubbed the lotion downward between his pecs and on to his six pack. To prevent my mind from getting carried away with less-than-innocent thoughts, I made jokes about his six pack as if it were a die.

"Where's your six pack?" I teased, staring at six rectangular muscles.

"There," he hardened, although it made no difference. They were visible from space!

"Give me an eight pack," I asked as I rubbed outside the active area. He flexed. "Nope, didn't work. Give me a four." He bent a little to hide the top two. I chuckled at his effort. "It worked! Give me a two," I coaxed. He sucked in his tummy and stuck out his belly. I laughed again. "Give me five!" I challenged. He flexed a little to the side and pulled his mouth sideways as if to mimic the effort. "Nope, good effort though. I give you a seven out of ten for this performance."

I slapped the last of the cream from my hand on to his abdomen. "Turn around," I demanded, getting the bottle of lotion from Vee's handed it to me as she cleared her throat. I looked at her face, her eyes staring me down over her sunglasses.

I decided to get his back done quickly without any perverted slow-rubbing getting involved, for Vee's sake. Although I knew that if it was her she'd be even worse than perverted!

I decided to allow Elliot the opportunity to rub lotion on to me. He squeezed a little from the bottle into his hand and made dots from my throat down my chest, and between my less-than-ample breasts. It made me nervous to allow him in that space but I didn't know how to stop him. I lie – I didn't _want to_ stop him.

"Okay! Enough! Why don't you boys go play?" Vee suggested, taking the bottle of lotion from his hand and shooing both Rixon and Elliot toward the waves.

Elliot laughed and winked at me before jogging toward the ocean with Rixon.

"He was so close to molesting you just now," Vee shook her head.

I laughed, "I'm sorry. But you can't say you would've done it any differently."

"Yes, I would. I would have jumped his bones already!" she said, wound up, then calmed down for her next add-on. "But this is Elliot we're talking about." She began rubbing lotion on my back.

I sighed, amused. "Are you still on about that? I know_ I_ should still be upset but he's changed my opinion about him," I smiled. "He's so easy to be around. No drama, just jokes. Random jokes but it beats feeling the way I did before."

Vee was silent a moment before she accepted my testimonial. "Okay," she sang. "But just be careful. We thought we could trust him last time."

I nodded before asking, "So how are things going with Rixon?"

"Great!" she beamed, a sudden contrast from our previous topic. "My mom and I just love his accent. We ask him to say everything we can lay our eyes on: spoon... rum... manicure... yoghurt. It's just so sexy."

I indulged the idea with a laugh. But what I really wanted to know was whether Rixon had told Vee about any of the supernatural stuff. "So what do you guys talk about?" I asked.

"It's more like talking between long make-out sessions, but we talk about everything, I guess."

I realised it my question had been too vague for the answer I wanted. "Do you talk about Patch?"

"No," she quickly answered emphatically. "That topic does not exist."

"Good," I responded appropriately. "So do you know anything about Rixon's past?"

Vee paused, and thought. "Again, not as important as making out."


	24. Chapter 24: Busy

Happy Sunday all. I had a very productive day today. Thank you to Tabitha Marie Collins; Ranirose272; and bluebloodsrockandisthebest for your fanship. I hope you guys enjoy these two chapters as much as I did writing them.

* * *

**CHAPTER 24:**

"We spend all our time lying side by side  
Going nowhere, it's really something.  
Getting busy doing nothing.  
We spend all our time running our lives  
Going nowhere, it's really something.  
Getting busy, doing nothing."

Olly Murs (Busy)

* * *

After an hour or so of laying in the sun and talking about boys, movies and any other random thoughts, Vee and I left our dry, warm towels for the refreshing coolness of the ocean.

We got as deep as our waists, dreading to go further since the water was a tad too cold for comfort, when wave after wave came at us with tremendous force, knocking us back a few steps.

"Let's just do it!" Vee said, at my side.

"On three," I nodded. "One... two..." I squealed before finishing with, "Three!"

And we dove simultaneously into the oncoming wave. I felt the current whoosh over my body, and tug at my bikini bottom. I made a mental note that I'd have to tighten the strings when I reached the surface again. The cold water didn't seem so bad now that I was under water. And after that one dive into the wave, I rose out on the other side, with my tight curls smoothed out against my back.

I looked to Vee who smiled and giggled. "Let's go deeper."

We made consecutive dives through the next few waves to get neck-deep in ocean water. The idea at this point was to either jump with the wave so that it lifted you to a great height or to ride the wave with your body so that it could carry you toward the shore.

After seeing a number of other swimmers body-surf their way to the shore, I decided to take the next opportunity to do the same.

"I'm going to try it," I told Vee.

"Go for it," she encouraged.

When the next wave approached, building its height I got into position to accept the push against my back. I felt myself rise above the swimmers in front of me and then, once I got my body into a straight enough position, the wave pushed me through.

My eyes widened in excitement at my first body-surfing feat.

Instead of going as far as I could with the wave, I freaked out when I saw a group of swimmers in front of me and a sudden flash of me knocking into them and drowning made my body draw back and suddenly I was toppling under the wave.

Air bubbles blew out of my nose as I tumbled under water, but I quickly remembered that I might need the oxygen that I have left in my lungs. Who knows when this relentless tumbling will end?

Finally I felt a breeze on my face and knew I was above water again. I took fresh air into my lungs and opened my eyes. I was chest-deep in water, so I knew I hadn't travelled far while body-surfing. It would be a while before I'd try that again, I thought to myself.

I spotted Vee and began making my way to her. I dove under a wave and felt the tugging at my bikini bottom again. I rose on the other side of the wave and attempted to fasten it under water - I was not going to do it in front of at least 500 sunbathers!

I found the knotted bow and attempted to undo the first knot. I mentally visualised what I was feeling underwater. A wave was approaching and I already decided I'd just dip below the surface to avoid it pushing me back, all the while holding the knot between my fingers.

The wave passed and I continued to feel at the knot. I was getting close to loosening it, I just knew it.

"Nora!" Vee shouted in the distance.

I looked up from the water to find her, but the first thing I saw was Rixon approaching me speedily, his eyes wide with alertness.

"Move!" he shouted.

The first thing I could think to do was dip under the wave as I'd been doing for the last half hour.

I plunged beneath the surface after a sharp intake of breath, hoping that Rixon's lanky body would be passing above me quickly.

Just then, something hard like a bone knocked the top of my head.

I jumped to the surface looking around. Rixon had passed over me and his wave was dying down. The next wave hit my back and gushed over me. This was not going well for me. I had to get out of the water. I swam frantically toward the shore, letting the current help me along.

I walked on to the beach, my wavy curls clinging to my back. I pulled my long hair over my shoulder and twisted the water out of it. Rixon jogged up to me from a few feet away.

"You okay?" Rixon asked.

"Did you kick me while I was underwater?" I asked him, making our way to our towels.

"If I did I wouldn't know." He said softer, "I can't feel anything."

I sighed. "Too bad. I was hoping you'd be hurting the way my head is right now."

He laughed before apologising and recommending we see the Lifeguard EMT for a check up just in case. I knew I was fine so I declined. We sat on our towels and dried in the sun.

"Why aren't you swimming?" asked a soaking Elliot approaching us with Vee.

"Rixon hit me in the head with his knee."

"Rixon!" Vee scolded him.

"Are you okay, Nora?" Elliot asked me.

"Yeah. But it hurts," I said, frowning and pushing at the bump on my head.

And in true Elliot style, he stepped closer to me to examine the bump and told me thoughtfully, "Oh no, you've got an egg-head now."

"Shut up!" I laughed and lightly punched his side.

In one quick movement he had me cradled in his arms. I shrieked thinking of the chance that he might drop me accidentally. He began walking toward the water and foreseeing the contrastive temperature between my warm skin and the cold sea water was not an appealing thought. I wriggled in his grip, begging him not to do what he was about to. He just laughed, then turned around and put me down.

I ran away from him but he caught me quickly and spun me around. He held my face in his hands and bent to kiss my lips. I found myself smiling blissfully before kissing his cool lips back. And without realising it, my hands slipped to his hips and pulled myself closer to him.

When four o' clock came around we packed up and trekked across the sand toward the road. We ascended the stairs from the beach to the road and the boys decided they'd get the cars and pick us up at this very spot. So the boys were off in opposite directions.

I watched Elliot walk up the street and then I saw Patch standing on the corner in his usual black attire and ball cap. And then a stream of cars, trucks and a lorry drove past and he was gone. I looked up, down and sideways from that corner and I couldn't find him.

"I think I just saw Patch," I said to Vee, still searching the area visually.

"Where?" she turned to me.

"Well, he was just there. Now he's gone."

"How hard did you hit your head?" she asked ironically.

"I swear I saw him."

"What was he wearing? Was he topless?" she asked excitedly.

"No," I laughed.

"Damn. Was Marcie with him?"

"No. He was alone."

"Ooh! Scandal!" she sang. "Marcie Millar and scandal go together like hotdogs and buns. Now that is one girl's diary I would _love_ to read."

"How do you know she has a diary?" I asked.

"To keep record of all the gossip, of course."

"Why would you want to read that? It's probably ninety-nine-percent bullshit anyway."

"Marcie's like the paparazzi: you hate her but you love to read the tabloids. Plus I'm sure she keeps records of her _own_ scandals," Vee explained.

Amused, I replied, "I guess."

A moment later, Vee started up again, "Marcie has probably written a lot about me. She's just jealous that I have the hotter boyfriend." This was Vee rationalising so that the fight was between her and Marcie and had nothing to do with the fact that Marcie's boyfriend is my ex. The afterthought stung a bit. "Who do you think has got the hottest body between Patch and Rixon?"

My eyes widened in her direction. "I supposed it depends what you like," I finally answered.

"What do you mean? It depends whether you like Irish men or Spanish men – or whatever the hell Patch is? That's a little racist, Nora," she teased. "It's like you're finding a reason _not_ to pick Patch. Just pick Patch 'cause, to be honest, I don't think I really feel comfortable with you having feelings of attraction to my man."

I broke out in laughter.


	25. Chapter 25: Drumming

A/N: If you haven't already heard this song, you need to listen to it. It is like the ice-cream of this chocolate sundae chapter. What a fantastic song!

* * *

**CHAPTER 25:**

"There's a drumming noise inside my head  
That starts when you're around.  
I swear that you could hear it,  
It makes such an all mighty sound.

There's a drumming noise inside my head  
that throws me to the ground.  
I swear that you should hear it,  
It makes such an all mighty sound.

Louder than sirens,  
Louder than bells,  
Sweeter than heaven,  
And hotter than hell.

...

As I move my feet towards your body  
I can hear this beat, it fills my head up  
and gets louder and louder,  
it fills my head up and gets louder and louder.

I run to the river and dive straight in.  
I pray that the water will drown out the din.  
But as the water fills my mouth  
it couldn't wash the echoes out."

Florence and The Machine (Drumming)

* * *

That night I dreamed I returned to the beach.

My toes pinch the soft sand, my hands scrunch at the sides of my light-blue night dress. The breeze blows across my neck and lifts my loose curls from my shoulders.

I feel an internal pull toward the quiet waves, like a muffled drum beckoning me on and taking control of my body. It's more than the force of curiosity influencing my steps now, but rather a familiar energy calling me on, possessing my body and making me move forward.

As I advance, the drums grow louder and the will to turn away ebbs further from my consciousness. With each step the power of the drum swells and I feel a magnetic charge between me and the water. I _need_ to be in the water. I need to climb into its icy warmth and embrace its beating heart.

I walk steadily into the cold, dark waters, my dress soaking itself in the magic, deeper and deeper till my head is submerged. Total darkness blinds my vision but the drum beats louder and directs me straight toward it. The deeper I swim, the more I can see.

And finally I can see the drum and feel it pulsing in the water. I swim willingly now to the blurry oblong shape till it changes, seeming to produce four tentacles. I suddenly worry about oxygen and the possible threat of this creature, and in that moment of distraction the drum sucks me in closer.

The drum pounds against me as I examine its black mass. I reach out to touch its beating surface. And suddenly it moves and two eyes open above my hand.

I pull back with fright but the drum grabs my wrist. It's human. The beats pulsate down my arm and suddenly I am beating with equal intensity. As the human drum takes my other arm we become swallowed up in a bubble and now the beats emanate from outside us.

And, as if in becoming one, I can see clearer in our bubble and I recognise the face. Black locks float around dark orbs that shine against white eyes, and dark skin that glints in these green depths.

Whether it's the supernatural force propelling me all this time or my own will, I reach out my hand to touch his face, not believing it. He mirrors my movement.

Our eyes connect and we drift closer. He presses his lips against mine and fills my mouth with water kisses. And suddenly, as if by perfect design, a colossal beat escapes from our unity and water fills my soul.


	26. Chapter 26: Bad influence

A/N: Hello, my sweeties! I had a great writing week so here are three more chapters. I know by now my reputation has prepared you to wait a while before receiving new chapters but this is only because I want the logic of the narrative to be perfect, and you can't rush perfection. Beyond that, I work five days a week, 9 to 6 so I am really tired when I get home and therefore most of my writing happens on the weekends. So it appears that a pattern has surfaced now where I upload on the weekends. I just wanted to make sure you all understand that so you don't think I'm any less commited.

I love writing for all of you, especially those that show their support (fanship) with reviews or adding me to their favourite-something list (author and story alerts). You all deserve a shoutout: Ranirose272; Tabitha Marie Collins; im a dinosaur. FEAR me; bluebloodsrockandisthebest; and Cherry-Chick14.

And if any of you would like to friend me on Facebook, here's a link to my profile: .com/biancarv

* * *

**CHAPTER 26:**

"I'm always on a mission from the get-go.  
So what if it's only 1 o'clock in the afternoon?  
It's never too soon to send out all the invitations to the last night of your life!

Lordy, Lordy, Lordy!  
I can't help I like to party, it's genetic!  
It's electrifying! Wind me up and watch me go,  
Where she stops, nobody knows.  
A good excuse to be a bad influence on you and you."

Pink (Bad Influence)

* * *

I woke up the next morning feeling elated... and guilty. Guilty _because_ I was elated after dreaming of Patch, instead of Elliot. Elliot and I were in that awkward limbo between friendship and a full-on romantic relationship. There was romance and friendship but there was no official statement released by either party to clear up the confusion.

But then again, it wasn't confusing. It was as if Elliot subliminally told me 'I just like hanging out with you and if you want to do more than that, I like that too'. And how could I argue with such a perfect arrangement.

I suppose the only confusion was that of all the things I could've dreamed of last night, why did Patch top the list? I saw him for all of two seconds in a (delusional) flash; I saw Elliot half naked and wet for at least four hours – _that_ should've topped the list!

I filed the dream to the back of my mind and got on with my day.

I caught the bus to school and met Elliot at the entrance. He was leaning against the black fence with his hands in his pockets. As I closed the distance between us he smiled warmly, infecting me with his joy and I smiled back with equal delight. I threw my arms around him and he squeezed me tightly.

"What's up, egg-head?" he teased.

"I hope that doesn't stick."

He quickly retorted. "It's going to stick like yolk." I laughed and pushed him away. He held out his hand and dramatically shouted, "Nooooooooo," in slow-motion as the distance between us grew, by his own doing.

I laughed and waved, mouthing cheekily, "Goodbye."

Elliot pushed himself in class before me as part of one of the jokes we'd had earlier. I followed a few feet behind him with my biology book in my arms. The class was buzzing with chatter.

As I approached my desk, a 2-1-2 beat began on a desk behind me, tugging at the filed dream of last night. I stopped and turned around suddenly to locate the noise: the table in front of mine had one fist beating against it in time.

My eyes narrowed as if to will it to stop. Then he looked over his shoulder at me while still drumming. After a few more beats he grinned and stopped.

I turned to sit down at my desk, Elliot took no notice of what just happened. No one would; no one else had the dream I did. It was as if Patch searched the confines of my mind to find that dream and taunt me with it. But he couldn't know that, right? It was just a coincidence.

After I'd settled myself in my workspace, I turned to Elliot to start up another conversation but found him unresponsive, his gaze aimed somewhere in front of us.

I leaned in to his ear and said, "Hello?" then pecked his soft cheek.

He smiled in response, then pointed to his ear and then Marcie. I listened closely.

"Are you sure you can get the booze for tonight?" Marcie asked, holding Patch's forearm.

"Of course," he boasted subtly. "When do you need it?"

"Um..." she thought about it, "Seven. Everyone'll start arriving by then." Patch nodded. "Yay!" she sang and hugged him, appreciatively. "It's going to be the best party of the summer."

Elliot turned his eyes to me. "Want to go?" he asked quietly.

"Where?"

"To Marcie's house party tonight," he said, obviously.

"We weren't invited," I said before thinking about it.

"She's invited everyone. _It's going to be_ _the best party of the summer_," he mocked her tone.

I sniggered. "No way. I'm not going anywhere near her."

"Someone's drinking _haterade_. Why not just crash her party and hate her while having an awesome time," his arms danced the last three syllables.

I had to stay away from Marcie; this was engraved in my mental to-do list. "Nah," I shrugged off the 'excitement'. "I wouldn't want to go any way. And you can't go either, you're working tonight."

"Yeah, I know but I was going to get myself out of it if you were going."

"Sorry," I apologised, not sure for what.

Vee picked me up after school for a little girl time. She sat on her bed painting her nails a cherry red while I browsed the latest gossip magazine at her desk.

"These nails are looking freaking fabulous!" she smiled, holding her hand out in front of her. "They deserve to go out on the town."

"Like Marcie's party – _the greatest party of the summer!_" I said to myself, mocking her irritating voice.

Vee looked up. "Who's having a party?"

I put down the magazine, and replied tiredly, "Marcie."

Vee's excitement faded. "Too bad we're avoiding her like the plague. It would have been fun to gate-crash."

I laughed lightly thinking of Elliot's similar response. How can anyone find gate-crashing a fun activity?

"If I were at that party I'd steal her shit."

"Vee!" I cried, shocked.

"Only small things that I can get away with. Like jewellery and DVDs," she justified.

"Imagine stealing her DVD porn collection," I had a go.

"Yeah. Bestiality!" Vee added.

"It's only bestiality if you're human. And we both know she's a bitch!" I said, harshly.

Vee laughed so hard. "Good one. Bluetooth high-five," she said, holding her hand in position and high-fiving me across the room.

After the laughter died out, Vee said as if having thought about it a while, "Actually, I think if I were going to steal anything from her it would have to be something so valuable that it can't be replaced." She paused for effect. "Like her diary."

"You're assuming she even _has_ one," I said, turning the page.

"She had one last year. We had gym together and I saw her take it out of her bag and into her locker."

"That's _last_ year," I emphasized.

"Still, that's a lot of last year's gossip and unreleased information. Wouldn't you love to know it?" she asked, trying to get me excited.

"No," I replied uninterested.

"Let's assume she has a _current_ diary, wouldn't you want to know what she wrote about Patch? Wouldn't you want to know how they ended up together? I don't know about you but I'm still damn curious as to how the hell Patch went from Class to Trash."

She hit the nail on the head. Knowing the origins of Patch and Marcy's relationship was all it took to convince me that stealing would be a good idea.

"Yeah, I'd love to know," I said.

"So let's do it!" Vee jumped up excitedly, bottling her nail polish. "Tonight is perfect. Her house will be swarming with people and she'll never notice us. We'll be in and out."

"Come on, Vee," I reigned her back.

"Nora, don't act like you don't want to do it. You want answers, like I want revenge. I wouldn't beg you to do this if I thought we couldn't get away with it." Vee was really good with talking me into things. "It's not robbing a bank. It's kicking a skanky bitch in the balls! She'll get over it. Are you with me?"

My heart swelled in my chest as I thought of the consequences... and then deflated when I thought of all the answers that might set me free. "Okay, I'm in."


	27. Chapter 27: Balaclava

**CHAPTER 26:**

"Running off over next door's garden  
Before the hour is done.  
It's more a question of feeling  
Than it is a question of fun.  
The confidence is the balaclava,  
I'm sure you'll baffle 'em good.  
Will the ending reek of salty cheeks  
And runny makeup alone?

...

And it's wrong, wrong, wrong!  
But we'll do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble."

Arctic Monkeys (Balaclava)

* * *

Vee let me drive home to get ready for the night. In my mind I kept thinking GREEN CAMOFLAUGE but there was no way to blend into a party other than dressing like you were actually there to party. You have to look absolutely normal, and that's what inspired my outfit: black skinny jeans, a red long-sleeve shirt under a black waistcoat and low, black Chuck Taylors. Enough black to blend into darkness, enough red to have fun.

After a number of times of talking myself in and out of going through with tonight, I finally put on my big girl pants and got into Vee's car. I drove to pick her up and she walked out in a green v-neck and blue denim outfit.

"Thought you would've held my car captive tonight. Glad to see you both here," she'd said when I'd pulled up in her driveway.

We drove past Marcie's house after nine o'clock to scout out the area. The property looked full and cars were parked halfway down the block. We decided to find a parking spot isolated from any witnesses, and that was close enough to run to when we needed to make our getaway. Around the corner, we parked the car behind a large tree.

"Okay," Vee immediately sorted through the plan, "we go in, don't greet anybody unless they greet you first. Look inconspicuous and normal." She pointed her finger, cautioning me. "Chances are, her bedroom is upstairs so one of us goes upstairs to retrieve the diary and the other stays at the base of the stairs to act as lookout." I nodded through all this. She pulled out her cellphone and pressed a few buttons, saying, "Put your phone on silent. We can't take the chance of it going off at the wrong time. Put it on vibrate, and we'll call in an emergency." I followed her orders.

Just as Vee unbuckled her seatbelt, I stopped her. "What happens if the plan goes to shit?" There were more eloquent ways I could've put that but I was tense and uncapped.

Vee thought a moment. "Run to the car and leave no man behind!"

It was simple enough. I'd stick to it so long as it made sense.

We walked quietly into the party, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. The music boomed in our ears as we entered the front door. We kept a lookout for Marcie in order to avoid her stone-gaze. If she saw us we'd surely be dead, by her hand or Patch's.

We were nearly through the living room when we heard someone shout, "Marcie!" Vee and I looked at each other swiftly then at the possible location of Marcie. "I'm coming!" shouted Marcie, and we found her. Vee grabbed my hand and pulled me into a passage to the right, our heads ducked in caution.

We'd bumped a guy with his drink and quickly apologised. The passage was only four feet long as it lead to an open area... and the staircase. I breathed a sigh of relief. We could be in and out quicker than I thought.

The last objective was to get upstairs without getting noticed, a problem because this room was particularly full as it had the least amount of furniture in the way.

"Go up, I've got your back," Vee urged me.

"Why me?" I argued, quite afraid of getting caught at this point.

"You're Patch's ex. Everyone knows that. If someone sees you here they'll deliver the news quicker than you can say 'get out'."

I supposed it was true. But I couldn't just walk upstairs at another house party without starting a gossip fire. This time I'd have no boys upstairs with me but I'd make sure people knew I was going upstairs for a really ordinary reason. "Excuse me, where's the toilet?" I asked a senior I'd never seen before as a safe bet that he'd never seen me before either. He pointed back to the way we came. "That one's got such a long queue!" I moaned. "Is there another one? I've had way too many drinks already."

He smiled then said, "There's one upstairs, I think."

"Thanks," I smiled casually and walked toward the first step. Vee patted my shoulder and winked as she sent her agent into the field.

I climbed the red-carpeted staircase as casually as I could muster and slipped out of sight from the crowd below. I stared down the dark, quiet passage. It was definitely empty upstairs.

I began peaking through doors left, right and centre, hoping each time that the next one would be the door to Marcie's bedroom.

The first door to the left was a guest room; the door to the right was a linen cupboard filled with plush, white towels and blankets. Further down the passage, the door to the left was the bathroom I was supposedly seeking.

I continued searching and found the next door, across from the bathroom was a bedroom filled with more than the essentials. It was a room that had been lived in – I could tell because the closet, which was the first thing in view from the door, had clothes hung on the handles and a full trash can right next to the door frame.

I entered the room in two steps, careful of anything in my immediate path. Thankfully, the wide-view window provided enough light in the room and I was able to see a queen-sized bed with a floral printed headboard opposite the closet.

As I walked further in, I saw a desk against the same wall as the door. Above the desk was an under-used bookshelf and it was hardly surprising since I never thought of Marcie keeping any highly-cultured books such as classic novels or encyclopaedias. Her desk was a mess, drowning under magazines and nail polish.

On either side of the bed were two nightstands, each with a tubular-looking lamp. Next to the window, a few feet away from the bed, was a dresser with various hair accessories and bottles scattered on top.

I quickly thought of the first place I'd hide something I didn't want to be found. The obvious choice was in a drawer under many other things. And so I began opening every drawer quickly but quietly, starting with her desk, thinking that the logical connection between diaries and desks was stationery.

Oddly enough, the only things she had in those compartments were a few pencils, coloured paper and glitter pens. I was infuriated by the fact that she didn't associate her desk with education.

I moved on to the night stands and found magazines and money in the one drawer, and condoms in the other. My eyes widened at the thought of who she'd planned to use them on. Patch? My heart sank. I didn't like to think of her having him that way. It would be like her bettering my score, no pun intended.

Finally, I went on to the dresser hoping that among her intimate wear I'd find the precious book. After bravely feeling among Marcie's frill-and-laced underwear, I found nothing except despair. There were only four drawers left and then I'd really have to turn the room upside down to find the elusive diary. And that's when I began to believe that there _was_ no diary and the only thing I would find in this stupid mission was trouble.

Down on my haunches, at the last drawer I found a box of hairclips and a curling iron. And no matter how many corners I scraped, I couldn't find a single object even close to a diary. I closed the drawer, exhaling heavily.

Just then, my phone vibrated in my jean pocket. I slid it out effortlessly and saw Vee's name.

"Yes?" I answered swiftly.

"Marcie's on her way up!"

I killed the call and looked around for a hiding spot. If Marcie was already making her way up the stairs then it would be less than ten seconds before she'd be at the top of the staircase.

I got on to my stomach and rolled under the bed, then immediately stopped the bed-skirt from swaying. And I waited.


	28. Chapter 28: Girl with one eye

**CHAPTER 28:**

"I took a knife and cut out her eye.  
I took it home and watched it wither and die.  
Well, she's lucky that I didn't slip her a smile,  
That's why she sleeps with one eye open.  
That's the price she paid.

I said, hey, Girl With One Eye,  
Get your filthy fingers out of my pie!  
I said, hey, Girl With One Eye,  
I'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry!"

Florence and The Machine (Girl With One Eye)

* * *

Footsteps brushed against carpet at the mouth of the passage. Marcie was upstairs. I prayed that she wouldn't need anything from her room but that was wishful thinking.

I heard a click and then the room lit up. _Oh shit!_

I made sure I was as far from the bed-skirt boarders as possible so that no amount of light could give me away.

Smooth legs in cork-heeled wedges stepped toward the bed, and then to the side of the bed I'd just escaped from. I felt like I would be caught out any moment.

Her feet faced the dresser and I heard four squirts, and then an aroma invaded my nose. She'd just applied her staple perfume: Marcie _odour_ toilette. I hoped that was all she'd do but she hung around there a moment longer as I stared at her feet, and beyond them. Under the dresser was a wide gap and at the edge of the light I saw something lying in the darkness.

I fixed my eyes on it and realised it was a book, a thick book; a thick book full of secrets hidden out of the light. Please forgive me for saying, but Marcie Millar, that's some smart thinking!

Just when it looked like she was leaving the room, she stopped at her closet and opened the door to look at herself in the mirror hanging on the inside of the door. She turned her backside to the mirror and touched her rear. I rolled my eyes, thinking at least I wasn't wrong in accusing her of being vain.

A few poses later, she closed the closet, walked to the door and killed the light. I wanted to let out a breath but I could not make a sound until I was sure those footsteps were fading down the staircase. And they did.

I slid closer to the dresser and reached my arm out to take the book I'd discovered only a minute ago. With the rest of my body under the bed and my arms and head in the moonlight, I opened the A5-sized book to confirm my earlier assumption.

And there it was in black and white, and glitter pen, dated pages and familiar names. I read the first line of a randomly-selected page:

_Clara is an emo freak! She pretends to hide her cut but I know she only does it to get attention. What a loser! No one would pay her attention even if she walked into class with a flag pole gaping through her body._

This was undoubtedly the evil diary of Marcie Millar.

I listened once more for any noises before rolling out from under the bed. I got to my feet and hugged the booked tightly against my chest with gratitude. Then I lifted my top and stuck the book against my belly. I stretched my top over and below the book's boarders; the waistcoat camouflaged its mass.

With eagerness I strode lightly to exit her room once and for all, when something stopped me in the doorway, which confused me because I thought the door was always open. By the light of the window, I could make out a pocket on a dark cotton t-shirt. I looked up, and up some more. Someone tall and unmoving was blocking the doorway.

Fear gripped me. I was caught, unless I could talk my way out of it, but the words were also caught, in my throat.

"What are you doing?" Patch asked, looking down at me with furrowed brows.

Words spilled all at once. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I've got to go. I was just leaving." And I stepped to the side to dodge him. As quick as lightning, he barricaded the door with his arms. I gasped and shut my eyes. This was it. Patch warned me and I disobeyed. And the memory of my last upstairs encounter with Patch in the dark was so fresh in my mind that I could almost taste the suffocation coming.

He bent his head to me and asked, "Were you invited?" Everyone was invited but there was an unwritten 'uninvite' to me, Vee and a few other people who didn't want to cross Marcie's path.

I opened my eyes and eyed him. "No." It came out more like a question. Would he still hurt me if I _had _been invited?

"So what are you doing here?" he asked, mildly.

"I gate-crashed," I replied honestly. Something in me didn't want to double-cross him.

"That's not very nice," he responded, a little amused.

Huh? Were we being serious or playful here? I was still scared!

"Are you going to tell her?" I asked.

His eyes danced over my face and then the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "No," he finally responded and swung his arm open like a gate to let me past. I looked once more at him, curiously, before creeping quickly past him to the staircase, holding the diary securely under my top.

I casually descended the staircase, pausing quickly to take one last look at Patch. He stood at Marcie's bedroom door where I'd left him, and waved his hand slowly and sarcastically. I could take a hint: leave now.

Vee wasn't at the foot of the staircase like she'd promised she would be. At first I wondered how Patch got past her but now it was obvious. She'd left her post and nearly cost us everything.

I made my way briskly to the front door. The sooner I was out of the house, the quicker I could leave the crime scene. I'd go to the car and call Vee from there.

"Nora!" someone called just as I reached the sidewalk in front of the house. I jumped in fright.

Vee emerged from behind a nearby tree and hugged me. "You're okay!" she rejoiced.

"I've got it. Let's just get out of here," I said, quite seriously.

Once we got around the corner, we ran for the car. Vee fumbled with the keys before finally unlocking the doors.

"Oh my gosh!" She clapped her hands in excitement once we were both in the car. "Let me see it!"

"Not now! Just drive!" I cried intensely. My heart was beating like crazy in my chest and I had no tolerance for time-wasting. My adrenaline was pumping and my legs were shaking.

Once we got to Vee's house, we'd read the diary. Until then, I wasn't opening Pandora's Box.


	29. Chapter 29: Deep water

Wow, what a week. I'm very excited to present to you four new chapters. Please read and review. You guys keep me writing. Special thanks to: Ranirose272; FanfictionFreak3694; GetInMeTomKaulitz; and bluebloodsrockandisthebest. Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 29:**

"No matter how far I drift  
Deep waters won't scare me tonight."

Portishead (Deep Water)

* * *

We arrived at Vee's house after ten, closer to eleven o' clock. We made controlled strides up to her bedroom. My body was alive with adrenaline but something in me was dreading the forthcoming event. My morals pulled at me like a noose but my brain was telling me that this was the _right_ thing to do. I needed to know, so badly, what happened during the two weeks that Patch went AWOL.

I pulled the diary from under my top and tossed it on the bed. In the light I could see that it had a turquoise-coloured cover and yellow pages.

Vee closed and locked her bedroom door then eyed the little book voraciously. I looked at her with one question, "Are you sure you want to read it?"

"There's no going back now!" she replied, positively thrilled. "We killed the cow; now we have to make a burger."

"Is that Lady Gaga?"

She nodded, unashamedly. "She was right though!"

She was. _Not_ reading the diary wouldn't make the entire night less of a crime – breaking and entering and stealing were bad enough, we might as well just go for strike three.

But then I thought, how much of Patch's real identity did Marcie really know, if she even knew any bit of it at all? What if she'd written it in her diary? What if Vee found out? Would she hate me for not telling her? _It's not my secret to share, Vee!_

"Wait," I stopped her after she'd climbed on to the bed. "Whatever we read here doesn't leave this room. It stays between us two."

"Of course. We can't have anyone knowing that we stole the Book of Secrets, least of all Marcie," she agreed, crossing her legs.

"And, Vee," I added, "like I said before, it's probably... mostly... lies, so... whatever's written about me... or you or anybody, is not true." I tried to convince us both.

"Like you said," she retorted, "ninety-nine-percent is bullshit. I'm looking for that one-percent of truth. Besides, we'd know if she was lying about us in here 'cause we know each other's secrets, right?"

I swallowed, "Right."

"Now come on!" she called me on to the bed next to her.

There was no stopping her. She was going to know every piece of gossip that Marcie knew; every secret anybody may have tried to keep private. Behind the dainty and unimpressionable façade of the turquoise cover lay a thousand secret half-truths.


	30. Chapter 30: Secret

**CHAPTER 30:**

"Got a secret,  
Can you keep it?  
Swear this one you'll save.  
Better lock it in your pocket,  
Taking this one to the grave.  
If I show you then I know you won't tell what I said,  
'Cause two can keep a secret if one of them is dead."

The Pierces (Secret)

* * *

"...I bought a new pair of hot-pink Gucci pumps today and I can't wait to wear them to school tomorrow! Everyone's going to love them. By the way, I saw Shayna being tutored by Mr Laferty after school. I smell SEXUAL chemistry. I'll give her one more chance then I'm reporting this student-teacher relationship to the principal..."

"...OH MY GAWD! Liz totally copied me! I wore my pink pumps yesterday and she totally copied my look today! It's so obvious that she wants to be me. She even styles her hair like mine. I'm going to stick gum in her hair the next time she copies me..."

"...Jared is such an asshole! I wish I never dated him. He got a new car a month ago and now he's always riding shotgun with some 'HO in the passenger side. I might just accidentally scratch that car the next time I park next to him..."

"...I'm in the Coldwater High pageant! I better practise my surprise face for when they crown me the winner. Summer and the rest of those UGLIES stand no chance against me! One person who will never be in a pageant is Vee. I saw her in the cafeteria today with a FULL TRAY of food – french fries, beans in sauce, chicken nuggets, loads of bread slices and butter servings, AND chocolate milk. Yuk! She is so disgusting! How can she stand to look at herself in the mirror? Well she deserves to be fat 'cause she is always saying bitchy things to me..."

"...Bernadette makes me so angry! She didn't do her homework for today so I had no one to copy from. THAT LAZY COW! So I got in trouble for not doing my homework and that's not fair because she promised to let me work from hers. I think I should stop being friends with her and Liz because they are taking my friendship for granted..."

"...I accidentally scratched Jared's car with my handbag today. The problem is he saw it happen so it was his word against mine. The little bitch reported it to the office (what a baby) and vice principal Gray called me into her office. I have the money to fix Jared's stupid toy but what I don't have is the patience to sit through a lecture. Especially not from a TRANSVESTITE! Ms Gray has such a square body and big hands that I wouldn't be surprised if she really is a man. HIS name is probably Gary. I'm going to call her Ms Gary from now on..."

"...So my parents were royally upset BLAH BLAH about the accident with Jared's car but daddy said he'd pay for it. See? Told you I had the money. There was no reason for anybody to get upset in the first place. But now I'm upset 'cause daddy won't raise my allowance by $200! I NEED to buy a new outfit and get my hair cut by Déonne. Doesn't he know how much it costs to keep me looking this amazing? I have to uphold the Millar name..."

"... Guess who just showed up at my house... PATCH CIPRIANO! He was standing outside my window – a little creepy – but when I answered the door, he stepped inside and kissed me! Lots of boys like to kiss me, so that's nothing new, but he kissed me so passionately that I didn't even stop to ask if he was still dating Nora (THAT SKINNY WITCH)! It doesn't matter 'cause I get everyone's boyfriends in the end any way...

...So we went upstairs and carried on making out on my bed. He's an amazing kisser! But we stopped before it got to the good stuff, which was fine 'cause I don't put out on the first date. Although I would've made an exception for Patch. So we were lying on the bed and when I asked him about Nora, he asked "Who?" So I think he didn't want to talk about her, so we didn't...

...Summer school sucks! Can't believe I have to redo two subjects. What a waste of shopping time! At least I get to make out with Patch every day after school. But he's always reeking of smoke in the morning, don't know why. In any case, at least we never talk about Nora. I think it's safe to say that they're over and he wants to forget she ever existed...

...Patch and I have been together two weeks now and what a better way to celebrate than showing up to school together for our first public appearance. We arrived in his jeep (not a sexy car but it's part of his I-don't-care look. I LOVE FASHION!) Everyone was staring at us, even Nora. And he didn't even care when he saw her. You should have seen her; it was like I hit her in the face with a hammer! LOL!...

...Patch told me that Nora tried to talk to him and he didn't know what she was talking about or why she called him an asshole. How dare she insult MY MAN?..."

"...That FREAK SHOW Elliot is back at school. He killed his ex-girlfriend but they have no evidence to find him guilty so he walks free amongst us. I'm sure he'll kill again. I'm so glad I never dated him. He's cute but under the hotness lies a wolf..."

"...I saw Vee's car parked outside of Borderline's so I got Patch to buy me lunch there knowing that Nora was probably with Vee. And I was right! I wanted to dangle Patch in front of her. It was so fun, I knocked over her drink and it spilled all over her. Patch and I laughed at her. Then Vee tried to pick a fight with me but my boyfriend told her off. He's so romantic, protecting me like a real gentleman..."

"...Elliot works at Enzo's Bistro. Unfortunately he was our waiter when Patch took me out on a double date there. I am never going back there until he's fired. I don't want him poisoning my food!..."

"...Redoing biology sucks but not when you're sitting next to your HOT BOYFRIEND for 3 hours! I found a note under Nora's desk today. It must be between her and Elliot 'cause they were talking so much in class before Coach McConaughy shut them up.

**Stop drooling. Your desperation is so obvious!**

**Mind your own business.**

**Your business became my business last night. You freaked out at the sight of the two of them and now you're staring. As a friend I have to tell you that is creepy.**

**Who said we're friends?**

**I gave you $1. I bought your friendship. Ha! Ha!**

**My friendship is not that cheap. Add a few more zeros.**

**I know. Since I'm saving up for other things, I can make it up to you in other ways.**

**Like?**

**I can help you with your Problem...**

Oh my gosh! Nora is a virgin. That's her PROBLEM! I can't believe her and Patch never had sex! Neither have we but I think he's being a gentleman about everything (I still tell people we have sex all the time though). But... Ew! Elliot is offering to pop her cherry for her? Sick! Rather get someone without a criminal record to be your first. How low can you go, Nora?..."

"...Patch and I went to Shaun's house party last night. And so did Nora and fat-face Vee – how pathetic! Carly told me that someone told her that they saw Nora go upstairs, followed by Patch and then Elliot. Can you believe it? She can't just have one boy, she wants them both! I think she's too much of a goodie-goodie to take on two guys but boys always want something. She probably gave them blowjobs. Desperate girls always use sex to get a boy, how sad!..."

"...I asked Patch about the rumours from Shaun's party and he said he went upstairs to use the bathroom and never even saw Nora. But I still like the way I wrote it before. That bitch Nora better stay away from my man. I'll tell everyone she had a three-way, as a warning. That will send a message to her! Patch and I are going to the movies tonight in my car (a Toyota MR2 Spyder convertible). I'm tired of driving around looking like a million-bucks in his 2000-dollar bucket on wheels..."

"...Nora ran out of the classroom like a baby when I told her about 'what everyone else was saying' about her, Elliot and Patch. Patch knows it's not true but he didn't even care that I said it. I think he likes when I say these things to Nora. He obviously doesn't care about her anymore. LOL!..."

"...I'm going to throw the party of the summer – it will beat the party Shaun had last week. The only way to do that is to have something that Shaun's party didn't have... ALCOHOL! Patch said he can get the alcohol so the rest of the organising is up to me. Can't wait to get the word out about my party. If I tell 3 people about my party today, by Thursday everyone will know. Believe the hype, everyone, 'cause Marcie always rocks the party!..."


	31. Chapter 31: Wide awake

**CHAPTER 31:**

"You can a look a hurricane right in the eye.

1200 people dead or left to die.

Follow the leaders, were it an eye for an eye we'd all be blind,

Deaf or murdered; and this I'm sure in this uncertain time.

So come pull the sheet over my eyes

So I can sleep tonight

Despite what I've seen today."

Audioslave (Wide awake)

* * *

The revelations of Marcie's diary were deeply upsetting. It was difficult to witness first-hand the hurtful remarks she'd made about people, to such a degree that it was painful to even read through an entire sentence without cringing.

I pondered the lie-to-truth proportion and realised the only thing, that one-percent, that could possibly be true was what she wrote about herself. With each person she'd mentioned, her logical progression from one situation to another was completely off. How could she think that extra tutoring meant a sexual relationship was going on? Shayna wasn't exactly A-grade sailing so I'm sure she was getting tutored so that she could avoid summer school, unlike the rest of us. What happened to that assumption?

I couldn't imagine the kind of scandal that every single one of Marcie's diary entries would cause if they were to be spread around school. I knew that she'd already spread a rumour about me, entirely fabricated yet it affected me to such an extent that I became enraged. I wanted to rip her head off for telling lies about me, lies about everyone!

I really hated Marcie, not just for me but for all the other people I knew and cared about. I hated the names she called Vee, who was not even fat but still tried dieting in order to fit into the crowd – mostly because of Marcie's taunting, by the way. I hated the things she said about Elliot. Now I knew why he hated being at school - the scandal of his alleged offense had flown around the corridors and he was being talked about in the harshest light. I even hated the way she treated Patch. He wasn't exactly the Pope and I knew he could take care of himself but I wanted to fight for him. It felt like she didn't appreciate him, or any body, not even her parents.

Marcie was obsessed with clothing, money and all the material things. I think she tried really hard to portray a polished exterior to hide the black soul underneath. She'd never have real friends, only leeches who kept her happy by feeding her scandal. I kind of imagined her as a fat slug, overfed with gossip and no way to make herself happy except by hurting others. And then I actually felt bad for her because she'd never ever be happy; not even with all the money in the world, or a hundred true friends for the rest of her life, or even with the love of Patch.

I slept at Vee's house that night after reading the diary cover to cover. She insisted that we read everything in case something should happen to the diary.

"What do you want to do with it?" I asked Vee, the next morning over breakfast.

She thought about it a while as she munched on a spoonful of cereal. "We can't return it," she knew.

"Not without getting caught."

"Yip," she agreed.

"Burn it?" I suggested.

"No," she quickly replied. "It's too valuable!"

It was a filthy collection of lies. "To who?" I asked.

Vee took a minute before replying, "We could use it as a bargaining tool in the future."

"And give ourselves away?" I asked. "Marcie makes our lives hell without having a reason; imagine if she found out what we did. We'd be tortured every day until we graduate, unless we transfer to other schools."

Vee responded attentively, "So we keep it. We never tell a soul that we took Marcie's diary. If anybody asks where we were that night we say... the movies... watching... _SAW FOUR_. Nobody asks questions about that movie 'cause it's always the same plot."

"And we are never allowed to mention what we've read in the diary, to anyone," I added.

"We need a code word for her diary so that we don't give ourselves away by accident," she suggested.

After we both thought for a little bit, I suggested, "The book on mythology?"

Vee let out a faint chuckle at the title but caught on to how it was fitting to its contents. "Deal."

Later on, we also agreed that we'd never ever gossip again and, just so that we could detox our minds of the information in the mythology book, we didn't mention it for the entire weekend.

I thought the best way to remember my 'story', and convince myself that Vee and I were _actually at_ the movies on Friday night, was to tell other people about that evening. I started with Elliot and then the rest of the waitrons at Enzo's Bistro, when I showed up for my weekend shift. By the second telling, I had it rehearsed and added a cringing reaction to the movie, with an additional, "It's so gross. I can't even explain it." And that was good enough for most of them because they didn't have the stomach for horror films.

By the end of my Saturday night shift, I was still thinking about the mythological book and what Marcie had written about her and Patch. I was still fitting the pieces of _her_ story into _my_ story when Elliot pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Good night, Nora," he said as we left Enzo's.

Oh, Elliot. You already know what people have said about you but you should never know what I have read. There is nothing I can do to take away how you feel but I can show you that I care. I stood on my toes and hugged him sympathetically. And he responded with equal affection.

"Good night, Elliot."


	32. Chapter 32: It can't come quickly enough

A/N: I have changed some slight history from the original book _Hush Hush_ but don't freak out. It's minor details.

* * *

**CHAPTER 32:**

"Sailling through the tunnels  
In the morning by yourself.  
There's a very special feeling,  
True sensation, all is well.  
If you stand and reach your arms out wide,  
Close your eyes and try to fly,  
It's an underground illusion  
Tricking you from side to side

We knew all the answers  
And we shouted them like anthems.  
Anxious and suspicious  
That God knew how much we cheated.

It can't come quickly enough.  
And now you've spent your life  
Waiting for this moment.  
And when you finally saw it come  
It passed you by and left you so defeated."

Scissor Sisters (It can't come quickly enough)

* * *

I woke up on Sunday morning, mentally refreshed and slightly fatigued. I'd opened the fridge to prepare some breakfast only to find it barren. I'd had breakfast at Vee's yesterday and completely forgot to fill my own fridge up.

My mom was out of town often but she'd always leave money for groceries in a tin on the bookshelf. She'd continued to work long hours since Dabria set our house on fire in April. I remembered how Patch helped us make it look like an electrical fault by playing with the inspector's mind. I remembered what Patch said afterwards: "He has a tough mind to get into. He's really focused on his job but when you distracted him with coffee, it popped wide open."

Of course my mom and the police never knew that the fire _wasn't _an accident. Patch ripped out Dabria's wings and she vanished from our lives. There was no evidence to back up the truth and no other way to explain the fire, so I lied.

I gave my mom a ring.

"Nora," she picked up.

I smiled at the familiarity of her voice. "Hi, mom."

Some shuffling went on in the background. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I calmed her. "I just wanted to call you, find out how you're doing."

A heavy sigh, "I'm coping. Work has been hectic."

"You sound busy. What are you doing this early on a Sunday?" I took a seat on the couch.

"Paperwork."

"Oh, okay. So when do you think you'll be coming home?"

"I was supposed to be home today but a new auction came up at the last minute. I'm sorry," she quickly apologised.

"Don't be sorry. It's okay. Everything's fine this side. You don't have to worry about me. I just miss you."

A softer sigh from her side, and she responded warmly, "I miss you too, my love. How come you haven't been calling me every night?"

"Guess work takes up a lot of my time too," I chuckled, drawing similarities.

"I'm proud of you, Nora. Are you enjoying the summer at least?"

"Yeah, Vee and I went to the beach the other day. It was lovely."

"That's great. Listen, my love, I must go now but I will let you know when I'll be home, okay?"

"Sure. Love you," is the way we always ended calls.

"Love you too. Bye."

I said the last goodbye and hung up the phone. An empty fridge and an empty home.

I dressed myself in denim Capri's and a floaty peach-coloured blouse, pulled my hair back with a clip, slipped on a pair of sandals, and pocketed the car keys and the money._ Thank you, Vee. You're a star_.

After I'd bought the list of groceries and carried them back to the car in two plastic bags, I set them down next to the car to open the driver's side door.

"Hey, Nora," a sly voice called from behind me.

I turned around. Marcie and her two 'BFFs' Liz and Bernadette were standing side by side in shorts and colourful tank tops. _Fuuuuuck! Act innocent, Nora._

"Hi," I responded as neutrally as possible.

"Did you hear about the party I had on Friday?" she asked with crossed arms.

Do I say no to act dumb or do I say yes to validate her popularity? "Yeah. I heard it was good."

"From who?"

"It was more like a general consensus. I overheard some kids from school talking," I rolled the set of car keys in my hand.

"You really can't keep yourself out of other people's lives, can you?" her eyes narrowed in disgust.

"It's not my fault if they talk too loudly," I defended.

She dropped her arms. "Oh, you're just full of excuses. Just like it's my fault that I had a party and opened my home to everyone? Does that give you a reason to show up and go through my stuff?"

_OH FUCK!_ "What are you talking about?"

"Don't lie, Nora!" she hissed, stepping closer to me. "Something went missing from my room and the only time it could've happened was Friday."

"And you think it was me? There were probably like a hundred people at your house that night, why would you think it was me?"

"Because Kevin told me that he saw some clown with crazy hair go upstairs. And who fits that description better than you?" Kevin, that must be the senior I spoke to.

"Crazy hair? Seth and Jane and all of them have the craziest hair in the school. Why are you picking on me?"

"Don't lie, Nora!" she screamed and pushed me hard against the car. I pushed her off me but she shoved me even harder with her bony fingers. As I tried harder to push her away, she grabbed a handful of my hair in her fist and tugged it to one side. My head followed the pull and I gripped that hand, trying to get it to loosen its grip.

But she kept shoving me against the metal door and pulling my hair in another direction. And then she took her other hand and pushed the palm against my forehead, forcing my head to rock back and hit against the car's roof.

The hand that wasn't trying to loosen Marcie's grip on my hair still held the car keys in a tight grip. I positioned the sharpest key I could feel to stand out like a knife from my palm and then I dragged it quickly and heavily across Marcie's forearm. She screamed in agony and let go.

By this point I was on my toes and ready to fight. When Marcie stepped back to look at her arm, I lunged for her, but stopped. A great hand cemented itself against the top half of my chest. I looked slightly to the right to find Patch keeping Marcie and I apart in the same way. My nostrils flared for a moment longer before I calmed myself down.

Patch took a look at Marcie's wound then eyed us both, asking, "What's going on?"

"She stole my diary!" Marcie yelled.

"I did not steal your diary! I wasn't even at your party!" I screamed back, equally loud.

"Then where were you on Friday night?"

"I-"

"She was with me," Patch answered.

Marcie stepped to the side giving a look of shock and disgust. Hands on her hips, she asked, "Whaaaaat?" My thoughts exactly.

"After I got the booze I left and I ran into Nora-"

"At the movies," I added. "We watched _SAW FOUR_."

Marcie switched from Patch, to me and back to Patch.

"Not my choice," Patch let it be known.

Marcie seethed as she turned back to me. "Now you're messing with my man? You better watch your back, bitch!"

Liz and Bernadette walked her away from me, to where I don't know. I pulled my middle finger at her as a last 'punch'. Patch watched her leave then gave me a dark stare.

"I'm sorry. She attacked me first," I explained, pulling my clothes straight again.

"You're not sorry," he told me.

I gulped before replying, "You're right. I'm not."

"It was kind of entertaining," he sounded amused.

I chuckled, not sure whether he was referring to our fighting skills or lack-there-of. "Why did you just act as my alibi?"

He pulled his mouth a little in annoyance and said, "Just go," before walking towards Marcie's crowd.


	33. Chapter 33: Sleep

**A/N:** Thank you for being patient. It has been very difficult writing Patch. He is so complex but don't we love it! Big thanks to everyone for reading and shout-outs to: Ranirose272; CeCsep; chocolate-eyed-girl; Tabitha Marie Collins; Vickki; CrimsonAngels; XxMaximumfan4evaxX; GetInMeTomKaulitz; and clara for reviewing and adding me to your alerts. It's deeply appreciated. I love to see your reactions to the chapters.

Have a great read and a great week, all. Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 33:**

"And so I'm reaching out for the one,  
And so I've learned the meaning of the sun.  
And all this, like a message, comes to shift my point of view,  
And watching through my own light  
As it tints the shade of you.

I can't sleep, I can't speak to you."

Azure Ray (Sleep)

* * *

Patch left me confused this afternoon, not for the first time. I didn't understand why he let me leave Marcie's room on Friday night without compromise. I expected him to barter his silence for something... but he didn't. He kept his word and even told Marcie that I was with him that night. I was surprised that she didn't attack me right then and there. I know I would've!

The question was, why would Patch help me get out of trouble with Marcie then still run back to her? It was like he didn't have a back bone. This was definitely not the Patch I knew a few months ago.

These were the things I pondered over while waiting my tables. It was a slow Sunday shift but Elliot managed to entertain the rest of us with his 'screw-marry-kill' scenarios.

He'd asked, "Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt and George Clooney."

Cassie replied after a moment of thought, "Screw George, marry Johnny and kill Brad."

"What? Why?" exclaimed another waitress.

"It was a difficult choice," Cassie protested. "To be honest, I'm a little tired of Brad and Angie so I'd kill him off. I'd love to marry George _and_ Johnny but I have to choose. So I'd marry the younger one and screw the older one. I'm sure there's a reason George has so many young lovers."

Vee would love this game.

When I got home that night, I took a relaxing bath to cure my aching muscles and help me fall asleep. After what seemed like an hour of lying in bed with no sign of drifting into sleep, I tried to calm my mind.

I didn't realise it, but I had been debating in my mind the various reasons for Patch's behaviour. I was over the fact that he probably didn't remember me (like Rixon told me) but his behaviour toward me was constantly changing and now I wasn't sure whether he wanted to harm me or protect me.

If only I could get him alone, away from Marcie and everyone else, then he might tell me... something... anything besides a goodbye.

The red LED lights on my digital alarm clock told me it was twenty minutes to midnight.

I thought about ways to isolate Patch – catching him in public was hard enough. He always seemed to find me but how could_ I_ find _him_?

"_He's always reeking of smoke in the morning..._" read Marcie's diary. I almost hated that the words of her diary were etched in my brain.

"_Three weeks ago, he shows up at Bo's Arcade, as usual, for a bit of poker,_" I remembered Rixon told me.

Bo's Arcade. The new Patch, like the old Patch, often goes to Bo's for a bit of gambling late at night. I just knew he'd be there.

My brain told me it was (a) stupid to travel there in the first place; (b) stupid to travel at this time of night; and (c) stupid to seek Patch out when I didn't know which mood he'd be in tonight – attacking or protecting.

But I didn't care what logic told me. I had Vee's car tonight and that was the only way I was going to get to Bo's. So sue me for being an opportunist. Everything was in place for me to carry out this mission. It was like a sign.


	34. Chapter 34: Rock bottom

**CHAPTER 34:**

"I'd advise you to stand back - It's not safe.

...

I don't party in clubs and I don't laugh at clowns.

Keep it 101, man, don't be fuckin' around.

'Cause on my side of the city pretty shit don't live,

nice shit don't exist and ain't no love to give.

What you want out of this life you gots to go out and take it,

'Cause they ain't giving out no opportunities to make it.

You come in this world naked and mamma can dress ya,

But sooner or later you come outside to deal with the pressure.

Better niggers than you done lost it all not to return

So whatever you earn, protect it, you heard.

It's time you learn

Rock bottom of the map's where it's at."

Pitbull featuring Bun B & Cubo (Rock Bottom)

* * *

I pulled on a pair of jeans and a striped long-sleeve top, jumped into a pair of sneakers and finger-brushed my hair into place. I remembered the vitals: car keys and money for the cover charge (I didn't want a repeat of last time).

I arrived at Bo's in twenty minutes – it's pretty quick when there aren't other cars on the road - and parked in the company of the other cars and bikes that populated the area. I stepped out of the vehicle and looked around cautiously. _Please be safe tonight._ I checked my pockets to make sure I had my driver's license, money and house keys before I locked the car and pocketed those keys.

I slowly made my way into Bo's. The man behind the cash desk eyed me carefully.

"What's the charge these days?" I asked, trying to sound like a regular.

"Thirty," his voice rumbled.

I pulled out my wad of cash, without letting him see how little I really had, and withdrew the thirty bucks. I placed it with a flat hand on the counter. He counted it, put it into the till then gestured to the next door. Access granted.

I pushed the dark wooden door open and entered a green, smoke-filled room. _Great... I'll have to take another bath to get rid of this smell from my hair and my clothes._ I tried to keep focused and look for Patch. The ground floor was a bar, a great cover up for the gambling that went on downstairs.

I found the stairway to the basement and breathed, a little scared and nervous, before I descended each step slowly. I tried to remember my game plan, hoping I wouldn't draw a blank when I saw him. But I really hoped I would see him. This was my only chance to get answers.

I took the last few steps quietly, then looked around when I reached the bottom. Two men were occupying a pool table in the furthest corner while a barman was serving a drink to his sole customer at the bar. Beyond the bar, was a poker table in use. My heart beat quicker at the thought of finding Patch tonight.

I walked a little further in to the crimson-coloured room, trying to keep in the shadows to avoid being noticed. I tried to see through the blur of smoke to make out the distant faces. A few businessmen sat around the table with their jackets over their chairs and their sleeves rolled up. They puffed their cigars as they joked about their wives and business colleagues.

A young man of about 26 and an older man of about 60 sat across from one another. A posh-looking raven-haired woman in her fourties sat next to the older man and put forward a large bet. Next to her was a man under a baseball cap sitting to face me. I tried to look harder to see if it was Patch but the cap shadowed his face.

I walked a little closer trying to get a better view. _Lift up your head, man!_ I took another step closer and the man in the cap lifted his head up slowly. Just then, the light hit the bottom half of his face and I knew he saw me. I knew it was him. It was definitely him.

I picked up my hand to give a subtle wave of acknowledgement, then he looked down again and the shadow concealed his face once more. I took a seat at the bar, waiting for a time when I could pull him away from the table to talk to him.

"What can I get ya? A mojito?" suggested the bar tender, drying a beer glass.

I looked up. "Uh, no," I declined. "Alcohol takes me off my game. I want to win big tonight." I gestured my head towards the poker tables.

"A virgin mojito then?"

"What is a drink without alcohol?" I asked, hoping to sound grownup. I wanted to blend in, not stand out as a _twirp_ with a non-alcoholic drink.

"That's my kind of woman!" he laughed, approvingly. I laughed back, trying to keep up the act.

It had been ten minutes and Patch was still at the poker table. My feet were jittery as I waited with my hands on my lap, fiddling with my fingers to pass the time by.

Suddenly my seat spun around and Patch was in front of me. He pulled the ball cap off and set it down on the bar behind me. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the locks away from his face for a moment before they fell back again.

"Did you win?" I asked about his game. That was the polite thing to do, I thought.

"No. You were very distracting."

"Sorry," I apologised, not sure yet if I was on his good side tonight.

"Not. A. Problem." I think I saw the beginnings of a smirk.

I tried to remember to breathe. I tried to remember my purpose in coming here tonight. "Could I talk to you for a bit?"

"For a bit of what?"

I tried to rephrase: "Can we talk?"

He looked down at me then further down my body. He placed a hand on my right thigh and spun me 90-degrees to the left, slowly, so that I faced the next barstool, which he then occupied. He removed the hand from my leg and raised it to the bartender I'd spoken to before. "Two liquid cocaines."

Liquid cocaine? As in drugs? When I saw the bartender grab a few bottles of alcohol I realised it must be the name of a drink. Cocaine is a hard drug and if the drink's strength is anything like its namesake, there was no way I was taking it. "I hope those are meant for you alone," I said, worried.

"Yeah," he put me at ease.

"Good."

"So what did you want to talk about?"

I got my words together. "I wanted to thank you for today."

He let out an amused sigh as if it wasn't even worth mentioning. "Uh huh?"

"Two liquid cocaines. Five-dollars," said the burly bartender as he placed the shooters in front of us. Patch got off his seat and stuck his hand into his pocket to fish out a ten.

I carried on with my speech despite his movements. "But I don't understand why you let me get away with ta-" Before I could finish my sentence, Patch was standing right next to me, invading my breathing space. I was too distracted by his proximity to finish my speech.

"Interesting," he said, curiously.

I looked at him quickly, asking, "What is?"

"The effect I have on you."

I blushed. Was it that obvious? I retorted, "Confusion?"

"What's got you confused?" he stepped back.

I turned my seat to face him and, without trying to sound harsh, I responded, "You. First you're protecting Marcie from me, then you're protecting me from Marcie. I don't get it. What's going on, Patch?"

He sighed. "Do you really want to know? Will it help you sleep at night?"

I'd answered _yes_ immediately to the first question but wavered at the second. The only answer that would make Patch talk was _yes_ as well. So I admitted, "Yes."

He pressed his thighs against my knees and bent closer to me as he placed his hands on the bar behind me. "Are you afraid of me, Nora?" His scent never changed. It was intoxicating as it galloped through my memories. I had to try my best not to swoon as his face hovered inches from mine.

I exhaled, then replied, "Yes."

He laughed with gusto, stepping back and taking his seat. "Don't be. Drink up."

_What? _"I can't. I'm too young." I said softly.

"It's one shot. It won't kill you."

"I have to drive. I can't do that if I'm intoxicated," I tried to explain.

"It'll be out of your system in an hour. You'll be fine."

"Patch, I can't," I emphasized.

He held my hand. "Nora, if you want answers you've got to play my way. So, ask yourself how badly do you want it?"

I wasn't sure what _it_ was referring to: answers or _him_. But I wanted both badly and desperately!

He slid the blue shooter in front of me, and I stared at it as I imagined my entire future being ruined by this tiny bit of alcohol. I was taking a risk if I was caught consuming alcohol as a minor, and driving while intoxicated.

I was only sixteen and never had a substantial amount of alcohol before, besides the time when my dad had let me try a shot of Zappa at Uncle Simon's house (which I've come to learn at these house parties is the kindergarten-level of alcohol). And one shot of that weak booze was enough to make me a tinge dizzy and my legs shaky. I definitely could not 'handle my liquor', as the saying goes.

If I was going to risk my future and the proper-functioning of my body, I was going to have to be sure he'd keep his end of the deal

"If I take this shot, you have to give me answers. I won't accept you avoiding any of them," I negotiated firmly.

"Sure," he grinned, lifting his shot suggestively.

I picked up the shot in front of me and on his call we each threw back the concoction. My face cringed as my taste buds reacted to the sour liquid. Patch remained cool, not even wincing in the slightest. It burned my throat and I coughed, trying to extinguish the fiery after burn. He tried to hold back a laugh as he watched my reaction.

After a minute, I composed myself and stated, "Now for the questions. I want the truth."

"Or what?" he asked, slightly amused.

I didn't really have any way of forcing his cooperation except trusting that he'd keep his word. But on second thought, I had one piece of leverage. "I'll tell everyone what you are."

"And what's that? A gambler?"

"An angel." I couldn't believe I'd said it out loud _in public_. I couldn't even say the entire word at the same level; my voice softened at the end.

Patch got off his seat. _No! Don't leave!_ I reacted immediately, standing up next to him to stop him, but he caught my elbow. His grip was tight as he pulled me away from the bar. At this point I was afraid I'd gotten myself in trouble with him. _Nora, you freakin' big mouth!_ My level of fright increased when he shoved me into the women's toilets and locked the door behind him.


	35. Chapter 35: Break me

**CHAPTER 35:**

"You could hurt me with your bare hands.

You could hurt me with the sharp end of what you say.

But I'm lost to you now

And there's no amount of reason that could save me.

So break me, take me,

Just let me feel your arms again.

...

Just let me feel your love again.

Feels like being underwater

Now that I've let go and lost control.

Water kisses fill my mouth.

Water fills my soul."

Jewel (Break Me)

* * *

"What are you doing?" I asked as I stood against the wall apprehensively. I tried to stay calm and keep my mind from running away with ideas of where this was leading to. Patch did not look happy when he dragged me into the women's toilets – and that was not a good sign.

He looked over his shoulder then the rest of his body followed, turning around to face me.

"Is this where we're going to talk?" I moved further into the black-tiled room, replying with trepidation, "Great choice. Lots of privacy because nobody's here." I'd checked the stalls as I made that comment, just to make sure that I truly was alone (and in possible danger) with Patch.

He walked toward me and I gulped. "Tell me what you know," he demanded.

"Hey, I'm the one asking the questions here," I stated clearly, not walking away when he stopped two feet in front of me.

He took a quick step forward and I instinctively stepped backward, holding my arms up protectively, but he caught my wrist and I winced with fear. "Tell me what you know," he demanded again.

"About what?" I cried, using my other hand in an attempt to unhook his solid hold of my wrist.

He stressed each syllable, "Everything." My breathing sped up. "Tell me!" he commanded.

"Okay! Okay!" I agreed, frightfully. He stared into my eyes waiting for me to talk. "I know what you are because... because..." I didn't know where to start. I know what you are because you tried to kill me on several occasions, like right now? I know what you are because you saved my life? I know what you are because we were in love (at least I was)? I looked into his eyes and finished my sentence, "You told me."

He let go of my wrist and I rubbed it to relieve the pain he'd caused. I didn't move away like I should've because I knew he was faster and stronger than I was, and we were in a tiny room, so there really was nowhere to hide from him.

I'd come here tonight for answers, not being sure of how I'd be received by Patch. His behaviour was the exact reason I'd come in the first place. I needed to know if the hit-and-run attempt was him. I needed to know if I was still at the top of his hit list because I was in constant fear and paranoia that he really wanted to harm me at every opportunity. The fear had consumed me to the point that I actually dreamed he'd killed me.

But there was a sudden turn around when we switched lab partners for a short period of time and he told me (mentally) that he wasn't going to hurt me. And then he let me get away with theft and lied to his girlfriend to get me out of trouble. On some level I hoped that he remembered me. And if he didn't, I wanted to help him remember me.

"Why would I tell you?" he asked.

"Well... um... it's kind of like... you... well... uh... I kind of figured it out." He snorted like a bull about to charge at me. "Okay, wait!" I quickly said, putting my hands against his chest to stop him. "I'll tell everything you but you have to give me a chance. It's not easy. Let me start from the beginning, okay?" I pleaded.

His shoulders relaxed and he stepped back to lean against a nearby wall. He crossed his arms and, using his eyes, gave me permission to continue.

I found a wall to lean against, myself, since the alcohol was really doing the hokey-pokey with my limbs. I spoke slowly, trying to remember the order of the events as they'd happened, instead of filling in the blanks with the information I'd later learned through himself, Dabria and Chauncey.

"About three months ago, you and I were assigned to do a project together for biology. That was the first time we met," I looked up at him, hoping to poke at his memory. I wanted him to know that I wasn't a stranger to him. "I knew you were bad news so I avoided you but you just knew so much about me that I had to find out more about you. But when Vee and I went through your student file, it was blank."

"Quite a criminal record you have," he remarked.

I sighed with relief that he was amused and not as enraged anymore. "I tried steering clear of you but you'd always show up, and at one point I thought you were stalking me." I laughed at the neurotic thought, but then came the tough part I didn't really want to tell him. "Eventually, I learned that you wanted to kill me." Patch raised his chin in interest. "I... touched your scars and I... got sucked into your memory," I tried to describe the feeling. "And that's how I found out about your plan. You were a fallen angel wanting a human body so you needed to sacrifice a female descendent of your nephilim vassal, Chauncey."

"You?" he asked, softly.

I exhaled as I answered, "Yes."

"So what happened? You're still here and I'm..." he trailed off, not wanting to admit he wasn't human. It was as if he still didn't believe me or trust me with this top-level information.

I looked at him carefully, hoping he'd have a reaction when I said, "You said I changed your mind."

He laughed to himself and asked me sarcastically, "How? Did you use a mind trick on me?"

I sighed. _Not the reaction I wanted._ I didn't know how to explain his reasons for not wanting to kill me at that time. Did he fall in love with me? I felt stupid for assuming Patch could've felt that way about me. His feelings weren't as petty as simply taking a liking to me. It was more than that.

"I don't know how to explain it. You were – are – pretty hard to read. I don't know how deep your feelings went but you obviously must have felt something for me because you refused my sacrifice."

Patch's eyes jumped.

"Chauncey was stalking me, trying to torture me to get back at you for possessing his body every year during Chesvan. There was this whole... incident that went down in the school gym, and by the end of it I had no choice but to die by Chauncey's hand or fall to my death. So I fell, sacrificing myself for you. But you saved me instead thus becoming my guardian angel."

He was listening carefully as I continued.

"Well, two months later, we were on a... date," I watched his eyes to see if a memory might pop up, "and... you kissed me good night and... then you disappeared." I tried to skip the major detail of what I'd said that night to save face. "Two weeks later, you show up with Marcie at school and you act like you don't even remember me."

Patch remained resting against the wall.

"Of all the girls to hook up with, why Marcie? She is such a bitch! What do you see in her?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Marcie is my responsibility," said Patch.

"As punishment?" I asked.

He smiled secretly. "As her guardian angel," he said, seriously.

I felt the confusion on my face. He was _my_ guardian angel! How could he move on to a new person? "How?" I asked.

"Orders are orders. It's my duty," he said very clearly.

A lot of things made sense now. "That's why you've been so aggressive toward me, isn't it? You thought I wanted to physically harm her, didn't you?" I got to my feet.

"Yes."

"You were just protecting her. You were just doing your job," I said, more to myself. "But why would you think I could actually be a threat to her?"

He pushed himself away from the wall. "Up until this morning I thought you would've been a clear winner but you're obviously only human," he said, amused.

"Of course I'm human. What did you think I was?" I said, a little taken aback.

"Nephilim," he responded, approaching me. I gasped. "But I figured out very quickly that you weren't."

"Oh yeah? When was that?" I asked, sarcastically.

"When I had you pinned against the wall," he said, doing the very same thing now. His forearms framed my face as I stood with my back flat against the wall. "You didn't fight back. You couldn't. You didn't even have a percentage of the strength that a nephilim has."

"So why did you still come after me?"

"I had to make sure you weren't going to tell anyone, that's why I spoke to your mind or else your friend would've heard me."

"I'm not talking about that night at Shaun's house. I'm talking about the near hit-and-run," I directed him.

He rolled his eyes, pushing away from the wall and walking away in frustration. "I don't know where you two got that idea from."

"Are you telling me it was someone else or that Elliot and I both imagined exactly the same thing?"

He turned around, replying, "All of the above."

"How is that possible?" I blurted.

"I'm not the only one who can do mind tricks," he replied, evocatively.

"Are you telling me there are other celestial beings in Coldwater doing mind tricks on random people? Why would they make me believe you were trying to kill me?" The questions seemed to roll off my tongue.

He nodded to my first question then approached me as he responded to my second, "We can't sense other celestial beings if they are in their human form. It's like putting a light bulb in a can. So there might be a dozen angels among us without either of us really knowing."

"But it was your car, your jeep! The same colour and everything!" I protested.

"Well, it wasn't me," he said, looking down at me, our bodies inches apart. "Although I have kept a close eye on you."

"Why?" I whispered, looking into his black eyes.

He lowered his face to mine and stared deep into my eyes. I didn't flinch even as he ran his fingers down my arms. The touch was paralyzing but I was too focused on being strong to let my feelings for him get the better of me. _I wanted answers, god damn it!_

His hands moved on to my hips – I could feel their warmth through my jeans – and then his fingers moved an inch upwards, sliding underneath my top. The touch to my skin was electric but I never let him know it by my face.

He took his right hand and ran it along my shoulder to my collarbone. Just when I thought he was going for my neck he led his index finger downwards and marked an 'x' over my heart. He pressed his palm against the mark and took me in for a moment. _Why did my heart have to beat? It was such a giveaway!_

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he held my gaze. As if begging for a reaction, he held my face in his hands and brushed his lips against mine. Losing the last of my defences, my mouth parted and he crushed his mouth against mine.

My hands pushed against his hips in shock but when I realised where they were, my fingers crawled all the way up his sides and across his chest. I felt every muscle over his ribs and every contour of his body through his shirt.

I pressed my mouth against his trying to get more of him. Kissing him never felt so nice. My heart was beating in ecstasy and body pulled itself towards him in agreement. His tongue was working magical rhythms in a slow pace. His kisses were deep and his scent intoxicating. He sucked on my bottom lip and –

The bathroom door squeaked open and heels knocked on the tile floor. Patch pulled away from me reluctantly and I watched him listen over his shoulder as his eyes looked off to the side.

"Thought I might find you here," said a silky feminine voice.

He put his arms to his sides and turned around, giving me one quick view of the raven-haired lady.

"The table is asking for you. Either you join us or we'll find a new bag of money to fill your seat."

_No, please don't go! Leave the game, let me get my breath back and let us get back to what we were doing!_

"I'll be there in a minute," he responded.

I rolled my eyes and dropped my shoulders in disappointment as the footsteps left the room. Patch turned around, catching my reaction. I looked away, so embarrassed.

"I have to go. We'll talk again, on my call," he said. I sighed, very disappointed.


	36. Chapter 36: Where do I hide

**A/N:** A thousand apologies for taking so long to update but I have been working religiously on the rest of the story and I promise you won't be disappointed. Here's a new batch of chapters which I hope you will enjoy.

I was asked to write longer chapters but I personally prefer shorter chapters because I tend to read fanfics on my mobile. So I started writing chapter 36 but it was so long that I divided it in two to make chapters 36 & 37. Just telling you so you don't think I don't take in your comments.

Big thanks to: Sorry I Just Did; candywasted; Dazed'and'confused 909; GetInMeTomKaulitz; Howl3; AlishaSK10; Rockerchick09; and VarArSkarsgard. Thanks for the PMs that kept kicking my ass to keep writing even when I was dead tired from the week. You guys rock!

* * *

**CHAPTER 36:**

"Got a criminal record, I can't cross state lines.

First on the bad list, and you're last on mine.

Looking for a scapegoat, long past due,

Walking down the aisle, staring straight at you."

Nickelback (Where Do I Hide?)

* * *

It goes without saying that I didn't fall asleep easily that night. I relived every moment over and over again until I fell into slumber, hugging my pillow.

I temporarily ignored the alarm clock's honking, feeling extremely drowsy and barely conscious. I'd come in around 2am last night and only fell asleep around four. Usually I'd chastise myself for making poor decisions but last night was not one of them – unless nothing actually happened last night and I dreamt it all. It seemed to fit the pattern of dreams I was having about Patch; in one dream he was running after me and stabbing me with a knife, in others we were kissing underwater and in staffrooms.

I killed the noise with a trained reach of the hand and rubbed my eyes open. It was Monday morning. Back to school and work and everything else that could never live up to last night. Even the Patch I'd see today may not be the same unreserved Patch I'd had last night. It was bipolar-Patch, kissing me one minute and hurting me the next. I wasn't sure which side I'd get the next time we met.

On the one hand I felt like I made progress with Patch since that day he showed up for summer school with Marcie, not remembering me and finding me a threat to her very existence. On the other hand my brain was waving a red flag, reminding me of how strong he was when he had his hand to my throat at Shaun's party. He could've ended my life that night. The thought of what might've happened and that it might happen again threw shivers down my spine.

Patch said we'd talk 'on his call', which probably meant 'don't call me, I'll call you'. I hate playing the waiting game.

For a moment I was apprehensive about going to class, not just because Patch would be there and I'd have to suck back the jealousy when I'd see his affections wasted on Marcie, but that _Marcie_ would be there, probably still having a grudge against me for 'allegedly' stealing her diary. That's the story I'm sticking to. I had an alibi in Patch.

Well, I might not have been with Patch that night but I was definitely with him last night. I had to remind myself to keep that a secret. I didn't want to come in the way of Patch fulfilling his duties, even if they were protecting Bitchie Miller. I wonder who she'd need protection from. On second thought, let's rule out the people who _don't_ want to hurt her – that would be a much shorter list.

I dropped Vee's car off at her house and caught the bus to school. I might have begged her to give me a lift but she was still in her pyjamas when I arrived and for her to get ready to be presentable enough to show up at school she'd need another hour. That was time I didn't have.

I was getting all kinds of stares from other students as I walked down the school halls. My first reaction was to check my face in the bathroom mirror and I made my way to the girls' toilets.

I entered the girls' bathroom and leaned over the sink to get a closer look at my face. I wiped every corner as I inspected the surface of my skin meticulously. Not even a hair out of place (well, as little as curly hair can appear out of place). What could they have been staring at?

I stepped back to get a view of my outfit in the reflection. Not a toothpaste stain or my top being back-to-front. Why were people staring?

Did they know about everything that happened this weekend? The diary? The kiss with Patch? They could _not_ know these things! These were secrets only two other people knew about – Vee and Patch. And I was pretty sure neither of them would go blabbing about _those_ kinds of secrets. We'd all be in trouble, not just me.

"Hi," a girl at the basin interrupted my thoughts. She washed her hands under running water while holding my gaze in the mirror. Her straight platinum-blonde hair hung in front of her shoulders, contrasting with her bright sea-green streaks. Her eyes were framed in thick, black eyeliner and she smiled, the light hitting the jewel on her lower-lip ring as she did.

"Hi, Clara." Another victim in the diary of Marcie Miller.

"Have a good weekend?" she asked, shaking the water from her hands.

I shrugged, a little nervously, "I guess. Same old, same old."

She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, wiped her hands and replied, "Not what I heard."

"What did you hear?" I tried to sound amused to keep up the pretence.

Clara's smile grew. _What did you hear!_ "I heard about your fight with Marcie. Heard you slashed her."

I was so concerned about the things I didn't want Marcie to know that I forgot about the one thing she did know. We had had a fight on Sunday morning in the car park. She'd swung her claws at me when I wouldn't admit to stealing her diary – and I didn't (I'll keep denying it).

Liz and Bernadette were at the scene too and, because they didn't do anything to aid Marcie's fight, they got a pretty good view of what went down. Having read the things Marcie said about both of them, I'm not surprised the story had slanted in my favour. If it had been Marcie who let the news get out, it would've sounded more like I was the one who got _slashed_. Marcie would never let a soul know that someone else got the upper hand.

"Well," I tried to correct Clara's exaggeration but she cut me off.

She laughed, "Man! That's insane. I didn't know you had it in you. Tell me one thing, Nora." She put her hand on my shoulder and I waited. "Did it feel good?"

I was a little amused by her emphasis on the word 'good'. It had a tone of satisfaction rather than patronisation. I smiled, "Yes."

She smiled in appreciation of that answer. "I'm so jealous. That bitch deserves a beat down!"

Just then, a cubicle door squeaked open and someone walked out, saying, "Want to talk about deserving a beat down? You don't even know the whole story, _Clara_." Marcie walked into view and Clara stepped to my side. _Oh shit! I'm going to get it now._

I didn't steal your diary. I didn't kiss your boyfriend.

I didn't steal your diary. I didn't kiss your boyfriend.

Deny.

Deny.

Deny.

"Did you hear that Nora broke into my house and stole stuff from my room?" Marcie zig-zagged her neck with attitude.

Clara took a look at me, questioningly.

No, Clara. Don't listen to her. "I did not! What could I possibly want from _you?_" I retorted.

"My boyfriend!" she said, emphasizing every syllable for Clara's benefit.

Clara gave reactive glances back and forth between the Marcie and I as each of us gave a response.

"What?" was my first line of defence. She had a lot of anger in her that was clearly directed at me, with reason, and I had a feeling she wanted to finish what she started yesterday. I had to calm her down or my eyes were going to be torn out by her freshly-manicured nails.

"Marcie, I think you misunderstood what Patch meant when he said we were_ together_ on Friday night." _How can I bullshit this one?_ A blonde eyebrow raised in sarcastic anticipation. "Vee and I were at the movies and we... bumped into Patch. So you see, it wasn't something we planned. It was a coincidence."

With arms folded across her chest, she replied, "Yeah, a coincidence. Just like when you two were upstairs together at that party."

Marcie's stupid but she will not fall for it if I call that a coincidence too. "No, that was not a coincidence. But I can explain... Patch and I were just talking through a few things, you know, for closure."

"Do you expect me to believe that? I'm not stupid!" she said, disgusted by my answer. "Patch is not the kind of guy you take upstairs to _talk with_. His body does all the talking, and him and I talk _all night_."

Well your diary says you two haven't even done it, but I'll let you have that one, Marcie, because it seems there's a link between your vagina and your self-worth.

I was taken aback for a second by her crude objectification of Patch before I could form a response. "Well, all we did was talk. There's nothing going on between us," I assured her. I needed some weight to that statement. "I'm with Elliot now and this was all a big misunderstanding. I'm really sorry."

"The hell you are!" she said furiously, and charged at me with her nails clawed and ready to scratch.


	37. Chapter 37: Step Up

**CHAPTER 37:**

"Broken -  
Yeah, you've been living on the edge of a broken dream.  
Nothing -  
Yeah, that's the only thing you'll ever take away from me.

I'm never gonna stop,  
I'm never gonna drop,  
Ain't no different than it was before.

...

If you wanna step up,  
You're gonna get knocked down."

Drowning Pool (Step Up)

* * *

My arms came up in defence as I retreated towards the door. Marcie grabbed my wrists and sunk her nails in.

Retreat! Retreat!

I'd reached the door when she stood on my foot and tripped up our momentum, forcing me to fall to the ground with her following suit. The fall didn't perturb her as she quickly had my arms pinned to the ground while my feet lay across the bathroom threshold. I tried to get my legs under her to kick her away.

I got my knee to my stomach and pushed my foot against her chest with all the force I could gather. She flew back through the open bathroom door and I crawled backwards across the linoleum corridor. Marcie's face did not look pretty right now as she huffed like an animal ready to pounce again.

Just as quickly as I'd gotten rid of her, Marcie had charged back at me. My legs got ready to kick since I didn't have time to get back on my feet. I had long legs and I wasn't afraid to use them! But she grabbed my legs and I tried to kick them free with no result. Where the hell does she get this strength from?

Just like a crocodile, I rolled over hoping to twist out of her grip. It worked and as I was lying there on my stomach, free from her clutches, I realised I had the chance to get up and run if I acted immediately.

Just as I put a leg up to stand, Marcie jumped on to me and straddled me from behind. She pulled my hair which made me scream. _Fuck! That hurts!_

Suddenly Marcie rolled me over with the grip that her legs had on me. _What is she going to do now?_

But when I turned over, I found her in Clara's chokehold, baring her teeth. Clara must have tackled her or shoved her off me. This was my chance to get up. Just as I rolled back on to my stomach to attempt to get to my feet again, Marcie kicked me in my side and I fell on to the floor in pain, gasping for air and relief from the stinging in my side.

Marcie elbowed Clara in the ribs, freeing herself, then rolled me on to my back, straddled me and screamed with a guttural sound as she pushed her hands against my throat. Another rough scream joined in as Clara pulled on Marcie's hair and readjusted her previous chokehold.

"Fucking die!" shouted an angry Clara.

"Fuck you, bitch! Kill yourself!" cried Marcie. "This is between me and Nora!"

I screamed, "You're fucking psycho!" when Marcie scratched her nails across my cheek and neck.

And suddenly it was over. The weight was off my back and I was pulled to my feet by Elliot. I turned around and found Patch holding Marcie back and Jared holding Clara back. Marcie doesn't need a guardian angel, I do!

One comment from the crowd said, "It's like the girls' bathroom erupted with PMS rage!"

"Have you girls sorted out your issues now?" Jared asked, holding Clara's wrists firmly.

"Not even close!" hissed Clara, directing her anger at Marcie.

"Bring it on, bitch!" yelled Marcie, taking a step toward Clara. Patch grabbed her arms and pulled her back, enforcing an arm around her waist and imprisoning her arms and her body against him.

Then Jared said in a calming tone, "Don't worry, girls. There's nothing that a little chocolate can't fix."

"Shut up, Jared!" I cried, offended at his belittling of the situation.

Jared eyed me. "Double dose for you."

"Oh no, Mrs Gray is here," mumbled Elliot as he held my arm.

Vice Principal Gray entered through the parted crowd and in a firm voice asked, "What happened here?"

"Girl fight," replied Jared.

"Who started it?" Mrs Gray asked.

"Marcie," Clara and I said at the same time.

Marcie whipped up a defence: "Nora intentionally aggravated me!"

If anything, I tried my best to defuse the situation, not even throwing in a hit during that whole time. I kind of wished I had, knowing she was going to get as violent as she did.

Mrs Gray aimed her stony gaze at me.

"She's lying! Ask Clara. She was there," I cried.

"It's true. Marcie started everything," Clara nodded her head in innocent agreement.

Mrs Gray shook her head. "Detention for all of you." Moans came from all three of us.

"Then give Nora a suspension for being a whore!" Marcie cried, wriggling in Patch's grip.

"Double detention for you," said Mrs Gray. Marcie rolled her eyes.

That afternoon, each of us spent detention in separate rooms. I had a feeling the teachers were more upset about having to spend an unnecessary afternoon in the classroom. Detention for me was less than an hour (thanks to my lazy supervisor) and I was grateful to get off as early as I did. The more time I had at work, the more money I'd make. I was starting to sound like Elliot.


	38. Chapter 38: Cocoon

**CHAPTER 38:**

"Well, based on your smile,  
I'm betting all of this  
Might be over soon.

...

So please,  
Take what's left of this heart and use.  
Please use only what you really need,  
You know I only have so little.  
So please,  
Mend your broken heart and leave.

...

I don't want to be your regret,  
I'd rather be your cocoon."

Jack Johnson (Cocoon)

* * *

Lesley gave me a good talking-to when I finally arrived at work after detention. Even though she understood that the fight wasn't my fault and I was only an hour late, she thought she'd still lecture me about being a responsible adult. I nodded to everything she said whether I agreed with her or not because the consequences of Marcie's kick to my stomach were still being felt and I just wanted to get through the day.

The shift felt longer than usual since I had to perform all my tasks with a pain in my side, and Elliot didn't make it any easier when he kept making jokes about me being a deadly fighter. He'd take every statement I'd say, turn it into an order, and pretend to be too frightened of my 'fighting ability' to say anything but _yes ma'am_.

The work day was done and I'd planned to catch the night bus back home, when Elliot offered me a ride.

"I'll give you a lift but you can't hit me," he negotiated, putting on the face of an abused child.

"I'll kick your ass if you don't stop it!" I warned with a laugh.

He nudged my shoulder with his arm and teased an attack out of me, "Come on. Come on." I gave him a scowl and he lifted his hands into claws. "Come on. Come on," he teased, throwing his arms about like, well, a girl.

I let a smile creep out.

He laughed. "That's how you girls fight. It's ridiculous. You need to give _punches_, not slaps and hair-pulling. You'll never win a fight that way."

"I wasn't trying to fight," I explained, getting into his car.

He settled himself into the driver's seat. "But you see, once you're in a fight you have to survive. You do what you've got to do to defend your honour." Spoken like a true male, I thought.

"You're a guy. You worry about pride and honour and all that. I was worried about my face!" I stated.

Elliot put a finger to the left-side of my face that had scab lines across the cheek and neck where Marcie had scratched me. "She got you good."

"Does it look bad?" I asked, worried.

He stroked a thumb softly across my cheek, then replied, "You're still beautiful." I blushed and gave him a crooked smile.

As we pulled up to my house, I yearned for my warm bed. I yearned for comfort. I yearned for sleep.

I got out of the car and Elliot walked me to the porch as I thanked him for the lift.

"You're welcome. Anytime you need a ride, I'm always here for you."

I appreciated his offer. I loathed public transport. "Tomorrow night?"

"Sure," he nodded.

"Thanks, Elliot," I said, hugging him. _Comfort._ After a moment, I broke away from the hug and looked up at him to say, "I really appreciate it."

He smiled down at me and replied, "No problem." I smiled back at him with equal affection, and then he kissed my lips softly.

Part of me wanted to melt into him. He made life so easy to live. He was so easy to be around. He was so normal, so fun, so affectionate and (even though we had a bumpy start) so safe. I didn't have to worry when I was with him - some crazy girl wasn't going to come out of nowhere and attack me for talking to her boyfriend.

I kissed him back, parting my mouth and inviting his tongue inside. He held my face in his hands and accepted the invitation.

But then another part of me, the part that held on to last night's events reminded me that this was not Patch kissing me. This was not the first boy I ever loved, who still had my heart, who still crossed my mind every day even when I was with the boy that I was kissing right now. The feelings for Patch, the memories of Patch, the longing for Patch, the history with Patch would always be there, tapping at my brain.

I pulled away from Elliot's kiss, looking down, not sure of what to say. I was conflicted.

Having kissed Patch last night, and Elliot just now, I sort of felt guilty for letting the feelings for Patch override all the nonsense that's happened since he got back. It wasn't fair to Elliot who picked me up and put me back together again, who saved me from Patch that one night at Shaun's house and on another night when Patch's look-a-like jeep nearly ran me over. I felt greedy for having my bread buttered on both sides and _not_ feeling guilty about it until a few moments ago. I felt I had to choose one side. There was no way that I could string Elliot along while I still had feelings for someone else.

Damn Patch for coming into my life, letting myself fall for him and then breaking my heart! If I wasn't so messed up over Patch, I would have chosen Elliot a hundred times over. But if Patch never came into my life, I would've never met Elliot.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I looked up at him after a sigh, "I have a lot on my mind."

"I'm here if you want to talk."

I smiled. "I know. You're always here for me." The wind blew his blonde locks about and I took in his face. His blue eyes were glowing even in the darkness. Those blue eyes have been my beacon. "I appreciate it, but I just need some time to think."

He nodded as if he understood what I really had to think about. "I understand."

"You do?" I had to ask.

He held back a smile. "No." All I could do was laugh at his honesty. He explained, "But I know what people mean when they say they need time to think. You need some space. I'm cool with that."

I smiled at him, realising how understanding he was and how much I appreciated the fact that I didn't have to tell him _what_ I needed to think about.

Then he said, "All I wanted was your smile. I didn't want you to hate me forever. I wanted to fix things with you. I think we're all right now." He smiled then took my hands. "So, Nora, I'm here for you in whatever capacity you need me, whether that be friends... or more... or nothing. As long as you never look at me with anything less than a smile."

I hugged him once more, much longer than before. It was an unspoken conversation of gratitude and goodbyes. And then he let me go.

I unlocked my front door, got to my bedroom and watched Elliot's car drive back down my driveway. I slipped off my shoes, unzipped my jeans and walked out of them. I turned off the light and pulled back the covers to sink into sleep.


	39. Chapter 39: What I've done

**CHAPTER 39:**

"Put to rest what you thought of me,

While I clean this slate

with the hands of uncertainty.

So let mercy come,

And wash away

What I've done.

I'll face myself to cross out what I've become,

Erase myself and let go of what I've done.

For what I've done I start again.

And whatever pain may come, today this ends.

I'm forgiving what I've done."

Linkin Park (What I've Done)

* * *

Of all the things on my mind the next day, showing up to school with evidence of yesterday's fight topped the list. Four scabby lines ran from my ears to my chin. One line for each offence I'd committed against Marcie: one for kissing her boyfriend, one for stealing her diary, one for cutting her arm with Vee's car keys, and one for saying horrible things about her behind her back. Maybe I _did_ deserve that beat down. I had become the person I never wanted to be: Marcie Millar.

It scared me to think that I had become _her_.

Before last night, I was indulging in the affections of two boys, then last night I decided that I would choose one of them but, looking back, I don't think I deserve either of them. Wanting both of them was such a Marcie thing to do, and I was stopping that immediately.

Stealing someone's property to learn their secrets was something Marcie had done to so many people, even to me when she found the note that Elliot and I had written to each other and dissected it to the point where she distorted its innocence.

Besides spreading rumours, Marcie used her fiery tongue as a weapon against her enemies. And when I thought of the few times I did say hurtful things about Marcie, I realised I was fighting fire with fire.

I had drawn blood the first time we fought and she had repaid the favour. I never submit to violence; my moral compass is always pointing north. But I must have lost my way when I let Marcie get to me. It all started when she showed up with Patch at school, and then I realised that Patch had all the power.

If Patch had told me that we were over then I could've dealt with that. I would've let him be with Marcie from the get-go (although it would've been hard to digest). But his behaviour has been odd: forgetting me, wanting to hurt me, not wanting to hurt me, kissing me, making me wait till he's ready to talk. I was done being Patch's yo-yo. He needs to get his shit together. Till then, I'm staying away.

I shook off the Marcie costume and got myself ready for school.

Before I left the house, I got a call from Vee.

"Hey, babe," she greeted with abundant energy. "Are you working tonight?"

"I'm working every night this week," I replied.

"What! That's slavery!" she gasped.

I laughed, "I think Lesley's done giving me so few shifts a week. I've really got to earn my keep now."

"Ah, man," Vee groaned on the other end. "When am I going to see you again?"

"Never," I joked in an eerie voice. "I thought Rixon would be taking up all your time."

"He does!" she said, enthusiastically. "But you're still my bestie. I have to make time for you. I think I miss you... a bit."

"A bit?"

"Yeah," she replied, "a bit. Don't get excited."

"Awwww!" I swooned. "I miss you too... a bit."

She chuckled then asked again, "When can we hang out?"

I thought about all my free time this week and the only 'free time' was when I got off work until I fell asleep. So I replied, "Do you want to sleep over?"

"That's a great idea!" she mused. "I'll pick you up after work."

I agreed and that was that. I'd hung up the phone with an excitement in my heart. I could really use my best friend right now.

I entered biology class and, yes, I had stares again today, but this time I knew why – I was branded with my sins. I had accepted and repented for them.

Before I could turn down the aisle to get to my seat, Coach stopped me and asked me to swap seats with one girl sitting closest to the door.

"Why are you moving me?" I asked, feeling uncertain about getting a new partner.

He put his hands on his hips and replied, "For your own safety."

"Right." Marcie's chair was diagonally opposite from mine. The situation was too volatile to allow us within such close proximity to each other. So I spun around and made my way to my new desk, sitting next to a girl called Amber.

The lesson started and I peeked through the door to see if Elliot might be on his way. I looked over my shoulder to see my previous seat being occupied by Amber's previous partner, and Elliot's seat being occupied by her bag.

I wondered where Elliot might be, not surprised that he wasn't in class. He was probably skating in the park. I wouldn't mind being there right now.

While still looking at my old table, I finally noticed Marcie giving me the stink-eye. She laughed at me as she scratched her fingers against her cheek (obviously mocking me) and then giving me the finger. She obviously hasn't forgiven me yet.


	40. Chapter 40: In between

**CHAPTER 40:**

"Let me apologize to begin with.  
Let me apologize for what I'm about to say.  
But trying to be genuine was harder than it seemed,  
And somehow I got caught up in between.

...

Let me apologize to begin with.  
Let me apologize for what I'm about to say.  
But trying to regain your trust was harder than it seemed,  
And somehow I got caught up in between.

Between my pride and my promise,  
Between my lies and how the truth gets in the way.

The things I want to say to you get lost before they come.  
The only thing that's worse than one is none.

...

I cannot explain to you  
In anything I say or do,  
But hope the actions speak the words they can."

Linkin Park (In Between)

* * *

"Watch out everyone," said Elliot as I entered Enzo's for my evening shift. Then he bellowed, "Featherweight fighter Nora the Ass-Kicker Grey has just entered the ring. Confront her at your own risk." He wasn't really saying it to anybody except me.

"Are you ever going to let me live that down?" I sighed. He laughed as if to say _no_. "Well, I suppose _ass-kicker_ is better than _wailing-screamer ._" He stopped laughing to take in what I'd just said. He eyed me, tempted to change my nickname. "Let's just stick with ass-kicker, okay?"

After I'd changed into my maroon-coloured shirt that had the Enzo's Bistro logo over the breast pocket, I joined Elliot in drying up cutlery as part of my shift. Each waiter had to perform some kind of preparation task at the start and end of their shift. So I'd start my shift by drying cutlery and ending my shift by refilling the condiments. This way, we were all responsible for the smooth-running of the Bistro.

"So where were you when I was learning about frog intestines?" I asked Elliot.

He smiled for a moment before answering, "The beach."

I sighed, "It's not fair."

"You should just have a little bit of fun, Nora. Nobody's stopping you."

"Well, Vee's sleeping over tonight so _we'll_ probably have some fun," I told him.

"Girls and their slumber parties. The eternal mystery and fantasy," he said, distractedly.

I laughed, shaking my head, "Guys are so stupid. She's my friend. It's not like we give each other baths and wrestle each other in our underwear."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be great if you did?" he said, dreamily. I couldn't hold back my laughter, but when it finally died down, he asked, "So do you still need a lift or is she picking you up?"

"Yeah, she's picking me up after work and then we're driving to my place."

"You guys should be careful on that road at night. There was an idiot driving down that road last night with his headlights off."

"Really?" I was concerned.

"Yeah, I was turning into the road and this dumbass in his sedan comes rolling down the street at, like, five miles an hour," he used hand gestures to show how his car turned left into the road while the other car came towards his. "Luckily, _I_ had my headlights on and I saw him before I actually drove through the intersection."

I gasped at the audacity of the other driver and shook my head.

"Nora, you've got a table," said Cassie over my shoulder.

"Already?" I asked, turning around to see who my customers were.

"Yep. He asked 'specially for you," she pointed to the table. In the corner of the restaurant sat a man behind his menu.

I straightened out my uniform and prepared my pen and notepad as I walked up to the table. "Good afternoon. My name is-"

"Nora," said the man, then dropped his menu to reveal himself. Patch smiled. My heart did a 360 flip and I needed a few moments to regain blood-flow to my brain before I could speak. "Got a few minutes?"

He wanted to talk _now?_ "I'm at work."

He looked around. "It's just a few minutes. I'll talk to your boss if you want," he replied, not bothered.

Yeah, right. "You can try."

He looked at Lesley, who could be seen sitting in the office, then back at me. "Done." Are you kidding?

Then I thought about it. "You didn't." He smirked. He had just played with Lesley's mind. "You can't just go around doing that to everyone."

"Yes, I can."

_Sit down, please._

He just spoke to my mind. "You could just ask me."

"Please take a seat," he gestured, and I sat down across from him, my elbows nervously folded on the table. He sat relaxed in his seat, letting silence settle in.

I fidgeted as I waited for him to talk, but he didn't. He just sat back in his seat and looked at me. I blushed, feeling self-conscious.

"How's the...?" he gestured to his face.

Oh great! He noticed. "Fine." What else could I say?

"Does it hurt?"

I thought about it. "Kind of."

"Sorry."

What did he just say? "Sorry about what, exactly?" I asked.

"That I couldn't protect you."

I was not expecting that answer. My eyes fell to the floor.

He sat forward in his chair and set his elbows on the table. "What were you fighting about?"

I didn't want to give him an ego boost, and it sounded silly when I thought of it being said aloud. He waited, then I answered softly, "You."

"Me?" he pointed at himself, not buying my answer. "It can't only be about me. You and Marcie had a history before I even came into her life, right?" he suggested the alternative.

That was true. Everything from our pasts had built up to the events of yesterday morning, and Patch was the last straw. It was a chance for me to explain my relationship with Marcie to him.

"Yeah, we have a history. We went to all the same schools, but in middle school she started bullying me. And it hasn't stopped since. It's like she's got a grudge against the world, not just me." I couldn't believe I was telling him this but I couldn't stop myself now.

"I'd always let it slide. No matter what she did, I got over it. Vandalising my locker, pinning my underwear to the notice board... I got over all those horrific, embarrassing moments. But when she had you, that was one thing I couldn't get over." My throat closed up.

Patch's lips tightened. "I told you, I'm her..."

"I know," I said, "But does she know that? I didn't tell her about that night at Bo's. She's built up her own evidence, including that one about us being together the night of her party. She's determined to keep you to herself. She just attacked me. I didn't want to fight her."

"I said it to protect you. I'm sorry," he said with genuine sincerity. His words warmed my heart.

"Thank you," I appreciated his effort.

Then he apologised again. "I'm sorry for... that other time... at Shaun's house." But he said it as if he was a little embarrassed. "I thought you were something else, something threatening that needed to be... _addressed_." He said 'addressed' the way army generals said 'kill'. I shuddered as I recalled how close I'd come to death that night. He added after a thought, "I'm sorry I didn't remember you."

That one really took me by surprise. He was apologising for something that wasn't his fault, I thought. "Thanks." My shoulders felt lighter.

"To be honest, Nora, I like you. I might have thought of eliminating you before but you've grown on me."

Uh, thanks? But I held on to the better part of the statement: I like you... you've grown on me. What was he saying? Did he have feelings for me the way I did about him? When he kissed me on Sunday night, was that a genuine kiss?

I clarified, "So you don't want to hurt me anymore?"

"No," he replied with amusement. "I want to do other things." His seductive eyes explained the undertone of that message very clearly.

Other things? I wanted to do _other things _with him too but there was one problem. "What about Marcie?" I was not getting another ass-kicking.

He took a breath before telling me, "Look, Marcie is my priority. The closer I am to her, the easier my job becomes. She will always be in the picture and we'll just have to work around her."

This sounded very suspicious. "So I'd be 'the other woman'."

"Technically. But she's my job, you're my choice," he said matter-of-factly.

Was he saying he was choosing me? The way I wanted to give myself time to choose between two boys, he was choosing me? Except Marcie would still be in the picture and Patch and I would have a relationship in secret. This sounded oddly like an affair to me and that was not the image I had in mind since turning over a new leaf. "I don't know. It all sounds really complicated."

"There's nothing complicated about it. You've clearly got it bad for me, and I've got it bad for you too. So let's make this work."

The idea of having Patch the same way that I did a month ago was tantalizing. It was what I wanted for all this time and now I was thinking of turning it down for moral cleanliness. The entire situation that Patch and I had been placed in was not fair and I didn't want to give up another chanceto make things work with him.

Before I could give him an answer, his expression hardened and he sat upright as if he heard a distant call. "I have to go. Marcie's in trouble," he told me. I looked down, displeased by the disruption in our long-time-coming conversation. When I looked back to him, he was gone. He'd vanished and I was left to ponder his proposition on my own.


	41. Chapter 41: You learn

**A/N: **I didn't want to leave you on a cliff hanger but I hope the next few chapters were worth it. Thanks to: Sorry I Just Did; im a dinosaur. FEAR me; candywasted; gedine; lisa b green; and VarArSkarsgard for your fanship.

Happy reading, everyone.

* * *

**CHAPTER 41:**

"I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone.  
I recommend walking around naked in your living room.

Swallow it down, what a jagged little pill.  
It feels so good swimming in your stomach.  
Wait until the dust settles.

You live, you learn.  
You love, you learn.  
You cry, you learn.  
You lose, you learn.  
You bleed, you learn.  
You scream, you learn.

I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone.

I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time.

Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)  
Hold it up to the rays,  
You wait, and see when the smoke clears,

...

You live, you learn."

Alanis Morissette (You Learn)

* * *

The tantalizing prospect of being with Patch was marred by the ghost of Marcie's beating.

It wasn't only my whole turning-over-a-new-leaf thing that was voting against Patch's proposition, but also the less-than-subtle point that Marcie had made: Patch is mine and I will not let you have him. She'd fought me for him once and she'd do it again, I was sure of it. Her attacking me was punishment for crossing the line, and I had to ask myself if I was willing to cross it again.

"Hey, babe!" Vee called as she entered Enzo's that Tuesday evening.

Our sleepover. It completely slipped my mind once Patch had entered it. I made a conscious effort to evict Patch from my thoughts and give my best friend all of my attention.

I gave her an acknowledging wave as she approached me.

Sudden concern shaped her face. "What happened?"

The scars on my cheek, I hadn't told Vee yet but I didn't want to do it now. "I got in a fight. I'll tell you about it later."

She nodded, accepting that I didn't want to get into it just yet. "So you done yet?" she changed the subject.

"Just have to cash up then we can go," I said enthusiastically.

Then in a bored and frustrated manner, she put on a Chinese accent and said, "Hurry up! Don't got time! Don't got time!"

She always made me laugh when she did that and at that moment, I couldn't tell you when or how we'd started that phrase but I knew that it had been from a movie – and it was funny.

After being cashed up, I rushed out of Enzo's giving a quick wave to Elliot as I did. Vee and I got into her car and made our way to my house.

"So who did you get in a fight with?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Marcie."

"I hope you got a hit in," she responded with interest.

I knew she'd be disappointed but I told the truth. "No." I could almost hear her eyebrows asking _why not?_ "She knows about the diary."

"She knows? How does she know?" asked Vee, with a little more concern.

"She heard it from someone who heard it from someone, who heard it from someone else about what some other person might have seen."

"It sounds like a game of broken telephone," she commented.

I nodded. "And of course, I was the first suspect."

"Of course you would be. Marcie has the nastiest stink eye for you. I don't know _what_ makes you so hate-able but I'm actually not surprised that you'd be the first person on her hit list."

I glowered at Vee, "Thanks."

"So does she know it was us or is she only going on suspicion?"

"I don't think she knows for sure," I replied.

"Good. Then we have nothing to worry about."

That was true, in a way. Marcie had no evidence to back up her claim unless someone should find the diary in our possession. What are the chances of that?

We finally arrived home and made our way up the stairs to my bedroom.

"So, I've brought a few movies we could watch," said Vee as she flung her bag on to my bed. "_Mean Girls_ for some L.O.L. fun, _The Transporter_ for some yummy eye candy, _The Notebook_ for some teary-eyed romance, or _Constantine_ for some escapism."

I found that last one funny. _Constantine_, the movie about angels and demons. Escapism? Not in my world. But I was glad Vee never knew about the other world's existence and how it had completely intermingled with our own. I couldn't decide whether it was better knowing or not.

I was glad I knew about it because it explained a lot of things about Patch but then again, I didn't really understand his world, or his powers, fully. Like this afternoon, after our long-awaited sit-down, he'd vanished. Disappeared into thin air. I tried to understand how it could have happened without anyone but myself noticing. On the other hand, I was glad no one did or I'd have to find a way of explaining that Patch was not from this world.

But if I think about it, if I never knew Patch's secret and thought of him only as a boy trying to hook up with me in secret while still keeping the peace with his girlfriend, telling me that he chooses to be with me but immediately runs off when his girlfriend needs him... I think it's pretty obvious that I would have 'kicked him to the curb' as they say.

But Patch was not just a boy. He had an obligation to protect Marcie. And I wasn't sure how _passionate_ that obligation was.

"So what's it going to be?" Vee asked, holding the four DVD covers in her hands.

Concentrate, Nora. Stop thinking about Patch!

"I can't decide," I said with a sigh. "You choose."

She took a moment to think, staring into her mind to find the answer. "_Mean Girls_."

Ironic too. "Let's do it."

I prepared two bowls of popcorn and while Vee set up two blankets and a bunch of pillows in the lounge. She prepared the DVD machine so that it could play once I was done in the kitchen.

And then the movie started.

About halfway into the movie, Vee asked, "Why is it always the pretty girls that are the mean girls? They have nothing to be angry about!"

It was true. The Mean Girls were always pretty. Was it part of their DNA? But the victims of the Mean Girls were just as mean in their revenge.

"But look at Janis Ian," I said, "that one with the black hair that Regina George called a lesbian, She's not the conventional beauty but she's being mean too. Like when she cut up Regina's clothes."

"That was revenge," replied Vee, through a mouthful of popcorn. "Janis wouldn't have done that if Regina didn't start it."

That was also true. But if the war has been started and no one is willing to stop, how can there ever be peace? It will always be an eye for an eye, and we all know how that saying ends.

We finished watching the movie till the end. Regina George was hit by a bus and we both gasped. But once we realised it wasn't the real ending we started laughing at the visual. Vee was LMFAO-ing and I was LOL-ing. It's a little disturbing that she thought it was _that_ funny. I was a little too traumatised by the horrific death to LMFAO.

"That was funny. That was a better ending than her living and them being happy ever after," remarked Vee.

"You are mean," I said.

"Am not! I think people should get what they deserve," she said contemptuously.

"So you believe in Karma?"

"No. I said people _should_ get what they deserve. It doesn't mean they do. If Karma existed, _our _Mean Girl, Marcie, would be bombed by the terrorists. And that hasn't happened yet. Not a single bad thing has happened to her. So, Karma obviously doesn't exist _or_ it doesn't operate in America."

My first reaction was to laugh to cover up the shock but that's when it was clear. The way that my best friend could laugh at someone's death and fantasize about the demise of another was so... _mean!_ We were all Mean Girls. Marcie, Vee, Me. We all have the inherent Mean Girl behaviour. It had nothing to do with looks or DNA; it's been a part of human behaviour for centuries, yet some of us can subdue the actions that cause us to be mean while other relish in the freedom of those actions.

Marcie has been mean for years and years and years. Vee and I have been subduing our anger to lash out at her by being 'mean' in private. Every horrible thing we'd ever said about her was a way for us to let out the pressure of holding it in. We'd been taught to be nothing less than 'nice' to people and not to take part in fights, whether verbal or physical. And we'd obeyed until we finally cracked, and we took revenge on the girl who had disobeyed the social laws of niceness.

We'd taken her diary, and we read every page until it tainted our minds. We had crossed the line from 'nice' to 'mean' by playing her game.

It was satisfying getting revenge, but with one action there is always an equal and opposite reaction. And that is when Marcie attacked me, and that is when Patch lied to protect me, and that is when Marcie attacked me again. The game would never end.

I knew there was no way that I could give Marcie's diary back but I wanted to forget that we'd ever committed the crime. I never wanted anyone to read the humiliating things that had been written in that diary. I wanted it to disappear.

"Vee, that was mean. I get why said it but it's not right. That's something a Mean Girl would say."

"I say these things because if I don't, I will kill her!" she replied with wide-eyed frustration.

"Yeah, but the things you say are really harsh. The only difference between you and Regina George is that she wrote it down and got caught," I tried to explain the similarities.

"Well, she was dumb then, wasn't she? I wouldn't record any of the stuff I say."

She wasn't getting my point. "You're just like her, Vee! You just don't see it!"

She took a defensive stance, forcing her head backwards as if to say _excuse me?_ "Me?" she said.

"Me too," I noted. "I didn't realise it before but we both let our Mean Girl personalities slip. And we did a Mean Girl thing by stealing Marcie's diary."

"It was for good reason," she justified.

"It was. And it was a good idea at the time but it's only brought trouble," I made it clear.

"Well, we can't undo it."

"No, we can't. But we can fix it."

She gave a disapproving look. "We're not giving it back!"

"I know."

"Unless..." Vee thought.

"What?"

"We post the diary back to her and type her a letter saying we know her secrets and we'll tell all her secrets if she doesn't start treating people properly," she said with excitement.

"Bribery. That's a mean girl thing to do. Are you seeing the pattern, Vee? Besides, she doesn't have any secrets in there. It's everyone else's secrets we're trying to keep."

"Fine, then burn the book," said jadedly.

That was my idea after we'd first read it but she wanted to keep the book as a bargaining tool.

"Yes. Let's burn the book," I agreed.

She took a second before she said, "Then everyone's secrets will be protected."

"Yes, even by us," I said.

"The evidence will disappear," she added.

"No one could ever link us to the diary." That was my hope. I had always been worried that the diary would be found in my house, the evidence of our sin available for suspicious minds. Of course I never thought that someone would break into my house to find Marcie's diary, but then again, Vee and I had taken an opportunity to enter Marcie's home undetected to find the book in the first place. But as investigative shows have pointed out, evidence will always convict the guilty. And we were guilty.

Vee stated, "We'd have to make ourselves forget we'd ever done it, to truly get rid of the evidence."

"There's no way we could do that. We'll just have to keep it a secret. We are _never_ allowed to mention it again. Not even to each other. It never happened. You and I were at the movies watching _SAW four _on the night of Marcie's party."

She gave me a puzzled look.

"That's what I told Marcie. That's what happened," I explained.

"Okay," she simply agreed.

We sat up for an extra hour that night, burning the diary in the grill in the backyard. I watched as the flames ate away at the pages and they curled into black waves and died into dust.

Vee took a breath and said, "You were right." I looked up to see her face in the glowing light and I knew that that one sentence was saying a lot for her. So I didn't press for some clarity because I knew we'd both learned from this experience.


	42. Chapter 42: Time

**CHAPTER 42:**

"When it comes to us,  
I've weighed up all the odds.  
I bet that this is love.

So if you're gonna spend time,  
Spend it upon me. Spend it up on me  
Just give me your time  
Don't take it from me

I know how hard it is getting it right  
At a time like this.  
So you'd better believe, believe,  
How right it could be."

Ben's Brother (Time)

* * *

The alarm clock screamed.

"AHHHH!" a muffled moan came from the other side of the bed.

I opened my eyes to the sunlit curtains of my bedroom window, then I closed them again. But the alarm would not stop.

"Ahhhhhh!" another moan beside me.

I dismissed the alarm and turned over in my place. The covers moved beside me and blonde hair was strewn across the pillow. I've never had to share my double bed unless Vee slept over. She'd actually decided to sleep downstairs last night but she must have climbed into my bed at some point during the night.

I didn't mind her being there except now I had to be extra quiet so that she could have all of twenty minutes extra sleep while I got myself ready.

I gave myself a thorough wash to get the smell of smoke out of my hair and cleanse my skin of its impurities. As I walked back into my room, after the shower, with a blue towel around my body and a smaller one around my head, I called Vee to wake up.

"The shower's free," I told her.

Another moan and then, "So is the bed. Let me sleep."

I didn't want to disturb her but she would have to wake up eventually. "I'm going to use the hair dryer."

Another moan and a sigh. "Fine," she finally gave in and rolled the covers off. Without pulling her hair out of her face, she slouch to the bathroom like a zombie.

After I dried my hair and changed into my clothes for the day, I went downstairs to make breakfast. After about half an hour, Vee arrived downstairs, fully-dressed with wet locks and tired eyes.

In a groggy voice, she said, "I do not envy you, Nora. Waking up at seven in the morning, finishing work at ten in the evening, it's torture!"

It was, but I had made my choice to work part-time. And I couldn't do anything about summer school. It was the consequence of the last semester's events.

"At least summer school ends on Friday," I said.

"At least," she grunted.

"I've made scrambled eggs and bacon, if you want. Otherwise you can help yourself to whatever you can find in the fridge."

She smiled, "What a sweetheart. Eggs and bacon is perfect."

As we took our first bites of breakfast, I asked Vee about her change from the living room to my room. "I don't mind you sleeping in my bed, but you always tell me how much you like our couch."

"I love your couch," she said with emphasis on 'love'. "Last night I went upstairs to the bathroom to _alleviate myself,_" she put it delicately, "and for no reason, I looked through the window and saw this black car driving slowly down the street with its headlights off. I was so freaked out. I couldn't sleep downstairs alone."

Elliot told me the same thing yesterday. Who was the driver and why were his headlights off?

"That's scary," I remarked.

"Yeah, deadly assassin scary," she exaggerated.

"It's not an assassin," I laughed.

"You don't know that!" she quickly replied, with deep concern.

After breakfast, Vee dropped me off at school saying she was going straight home to get her beauty sleep before spending the day with Rixon. I was happy that she had someone else to spend the day with while I was finishing summer school. Vee was happy with Rixon, and that made him okay in my books.

I was on time for class but not Elliot, who entered after the tardy bell. When he saw me in the front of the class, he walked past with his shoulders shrugging in confusion. All I could do was give an embarrassed smile in that instant. I'd explain it to him later. In the meantime, I'd send him a text.

I took out my phone and typed up a quick text to him as inconspicuously as possible.

_Coach moved me away from Marcie._

Send.

I waited for the sending icon to disappear from my screen, then I waited a moment for Elliot to get it.

I looked over to him and found him texting.

My phone vibrated. I opened up Elliot's message.

_Am I safe?_

I cracked a laugh but quickly held my hand in front of my mouth. Coach eyed me and I dropped my eyes to my books.

After a moment, I looked back over to Elliot who put on a scared face as he leaned away from Marcie's direction. I laughed quietly and nodded my head.

At the end of the lesson, Elliot walked me to my locker and offered me a lift to work. Because I knew that his offering a ride was only a friendly gesture, I accepted.

On our way to Enzo's, I told him about that Vee had seen the same car with its headlights off that he had seen the other night. He looked at me, not saying a word, then back at the road.

"What?" I asked.

He shrugged, with one hand on the wheel, then he said, "Two nights in a row. Could it be one of your neighbours?"

"I don't know. I wish I had seen it then I could tell you if the car looked familiar. We aren't friendly with our neighbours and not that many people go down my road, so I don't know who it could be," I said.

Elliot kept his eyes on the road, a little in thought as I was too. I wasn't sure what to make of this car with its headlights off. Some drunk driver coming home from the bar, unaware that his lights are off?

"Vee thinks it's an assassin."

Elliot burst out in laughter.

"I know," I laughed with him, agreeing. It definitely wasn't an assassin.

We arrived at Enzo's and got on with our shift as normal as any other day. And as usual, Elliot took every opportunity to act like an assassin.

"Watch out for my butter knife!" he shouted in a Chinese accent, as he got into a 'fighting crane' karate stance with the butter knife in his hand. "I will assassinate you," and he dragged out the 'you'.

I laughed at him, then gave in and took a spoon and got into an equally-cheesy pose and said, "You are no match for my spoon!"

And we began play-fighting until Lesley called Elliot for a table, giving us both devastating looks.

That wasn't the end of our assassin play. He hid behind his tray of glasses and sneak out suddenly, making a shooting noise as he pretended to throw something at me. I snuck up behind him and flung my dishcloth around his neck, pretending to choke him. He pretended I got him until he fought back. He pushed his back out, pulling me off the ground and lying on his back. Then he ran around the restaurant shouting, "Get her off! She's trying to kill me! Get her off!"

I died of embarrassment and let go.

When the end of the shift came and we closed shop, Elliot offered a ride yet again.

"I really appreciate it, but I don't want to inconvenience you," I replied.

"It's not an inconvenience," he said. "It's on my way, in any case."

I sighed, really appreciative of his kindness. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Thanks. I'll donate gas money," I said.

So we walked to his car and just as I was about to open the passenger-side door, a jeep pulled up behind Elliot's car, parking him in.

Patch put an elbow out the car window and smiled. "Need a ride?"

I looked at Elliot, who stood on the driver's side, who had no reaction to the situation. He was neutral. Then I looked to Patch again, who waited for an answer. I looked back at Elliot who had just offered me a ride. Then I looked back at Patch who 'had it bad for me' and me for him.

I looked back at Elliot, who nodded his head my way and then to Patch. Did he want me to go with Patch? Was it a test of who I'd choose? Hormones or friendship?

Elliot walked around the front of the car and gave me a hug, then whispered into my ear, "I told you my plan would work. He's here; what are you waiting for?"

I smiled, a little shocked by Elliot's reaction. He truly was my friend. I turned around and walked toward the jeep. Elliot followed me and gave Patch a handshake. I'd seen guys do this a lot when they met other men. It was like an ice-breaker. Women, definitely had no physical contact when they met – and that is why we have catfights. The tension hasn't been broken by a firm shake of the hand.

I climbed into Patch's jeep, waved goodbye to Elliot and off we drove.

Here I was, back in Patch's car where we had so many memories but his memories of me in his jeep would be new.

"Thanks for the lift. You didn't have to," I said.

"I wanted to," he replied, turning his head to catch me with his black eyes. My heart pounded.

I smiled, a little nervously, "Why?"

"To spend some time with you," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. And I kept my eyes on him.

"Where's Marcie?"

"At home. She's safe there."

"Does that mean you won't be disappearing anytime soon?"

He smiled. "You noticed."

"Yeah!" I confirmed. "Does it always happen that way? When she's in trouble you vanish from one place and appear in another?"

"Yes, it's called teleporting. And no, I can't always do it. Not in public."

"But the restaurant-"

"Enzo's was having a slow afternoon and I made everyone believe I'd left before we even finished our conversation," he explained. "When you and Marcie had your fight in the car park, and the other one at school, there were too many people to fool mentally. Without that tool, I can't disappear suddenly. People would notice."

I was very interested. "So if you could've teleported to Marcie, when would you have gotten to her?"

"Before she was attacked."

"So how do you know if she's in danger if it hasn't happened yet?" I asked.

He gave me a sideways look. Was I asking too many questions?

"It's the intention to carry out the action," he replied.

"Oh," I whispered, trying to wrap my head around it. We were about halfway home now.

"Must be hard being a guardian to someone like Marcie then, huh?" I asked, humorously.

He smiled. "You have no idea. That's why I have to be with her all the time." I kept my eyes on the road, reminding myself of that, that he would always be with Marcie. "That's how I knew you were in her bedroom."

I looked up at him. It was something I'd always wondered. "Why did you let me get away with it?"

He smirked, "I have to protect Marcie, not her property."

Sounded like Patch didn't hold Marcie in high regard. "Knowing that it would cause a fight, if you could make that choice over again, would you still have let me go?"

He took a breath. "No, but not to prevent the fight."

"Why then?" I asked.

He gave me a sideways glance and licked his bottom lip. His eyes moved down to my legs. I blushed and put my hands on my lap. He smiled and put his eyes back on the road.

I knew we were getting closer to my place. "My house is just up here; take a left at the next light."

"I know," he said.

He hasn't been to my house since our last date – and he was full-memory Patch back then. "How do you know that?" I asked, stunned.

His forehead creased. "I don't know." He took the corner, left, and drove up my street.

"What happened to you?"

He sighed, but never answered. He pulled into my driveway, which is so easy to miss on the sunniest of days. I never took my eyes off him. He stopped the car as close to the house as possible.

There we sat, in silence as I waited for an answer. I shuffled in my seat to face him, inviting him to talk.

"There are some things..." he started, "that I can't talk about in public."

"We're alone, Patch," I reminded him.

He put his arm across the headrests, then said, "We're not." And his face was mixed with the slightest sadness and fear.

Just then, the porch light went on and then the kitchen lights followed.

My head spun around to face the house. Someone was in my house. I pulled myself closer to Patch, keeping my eyes on the house. He wrapped a protective arm around me and kept his eyes on the house.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"I don't know. My mom's out of town. I've been alone. There's no one else," I said, dreading the inevitable. The assassin had broken in.

The door opened and a figure stepped out into the light.

I exhaled and lost the tension in my body. I looked up at Patch, "It's my mom. You should go. Thanks for the ride." And I got out of the car as quickly as possible. I knew how my mom felt about Patch and I knew she would pull me out of the car herself if she had to.

I stepped on to the porch and the jeep drove away. My mom gave me a disapproving look but it all melted away when I hugged her.


	43. Chapter 43: Tangled up in you

**CHAPTER 43:**

"In this world where nothing else is true,

Here I am, still tangled up in you."

Staind (Tangled up in you)

* * *

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" I told my mom as I followed her into the kitchen. "I thought you were some burglar."

"Sorry, hon. I wanted to surprise you," she said, putting together two cups of tea.

"Where's your car?"

"Around the back."

She was good. I would have had a heart attack anyway if she _had_ surprised me the way she intended.

She gave me a cup of tea, and as she'd come closer she'd been on my left side. "What happened to your face?" she gasped, tilting my cheek to the light.

I was hoping she'd never see it because then I'd have to explain to her all the things I'd done to deserve it. But I couldn't. This was my mother and I was not allowed to tell her the whole truth.

"There was a fight at school and Marcie scratched me," I started, but her face quickly responded with disgust. "But I wasn't part of it. Marcie was fighting with someone else and I was trying to stop them, and I got scratched in the process." That sounded good enough.

My mom quickly turned into a nurturer and I could see she was upset that I'd been hurt by accident.

"I was just trying to do the right thing. But don't worry, Marcie apologised and we know it was just an accident," I said, imagining a world where Marcie _would_ apologise. I just wanted to say all the right things so that my mom could get over this topic and leave it alone.

"That's good. I know you two have had your differences but it's good to see you two getting along."

I smiled, hoping she wouldn't see through my lies. I couldn't imagine a world where Marcie and I would be friends, but I could make my mom believe that there was peace. She'd never know the difference. That is the way of teenage life: withhold as much information from your parents or they will completely stop you from living your life.

We sat up for another hour, talking some more until my eye-lids got heavy and I had to submit to my body's need for sleep. And it didn't take long to do so...

It's a warm evening just before the sun sets. I'm standing on the beach in frilly sleeping shorts and a tank top. I've been here before when the water was calling to me.

I take a step forward, feeling the nostalgia kick in. I know there will be something good waiting for me in the ocean depths.

A hand slips into my own. It's warm and friendly. I look back to find its owner: from the hand, up the arm, around the shoulder, along the neck to a face with black eyes.

"Why aren't you in the water?" I ask him, knowing that is where I remember he should be.

He smiles, "Because I am here."

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"Because ten minutes was not enough," he says, stepping closer to me and dipping his head to mine. He puts a finger under my chin and kisses my lips with a gentleness and a wanting I can't describe. I allow myself to be taken by him, knowing he will cure the craving I've felt for the longest time.

As I lay in the crook of his neck, with his arm cradling me, we are tangled up in each other. I take in his earthy-mint scent. There is no smoke this time. He is pure and intoxicating, the way I always remember him.

"Do you still not remember me?" I ask, drawing circles across his chest. "The way you kiss me says otherwise."

He rolls me on to my back and looks down at me, cushioning my head. I can see the confusion in his eyes as he tries to explain. "In here," he strokes my head, "I don't remember you. But in here," he points to my chest, "I do."

"Your heart?" I ask.

"No. My soul," he answers.

"Your soul remembers me?" Such a strange concept for a soul to have a memory, but I believe it.

"It remembers everything," and then he kisses my me.

A few moments later, we're lying side by side and I begin wonder, "What happened to you?"

After a moment, he answers, "I think I have an idea."

"Tell me," I say.

"Humans and angels are not allowed to be together. It's a sin to fall in love with your kind." He responds with caution, "I think you are the reason this happened to me."

"Me?" I reply, standing up, offended and confused. "This isn't my fault! You never loved me!"

He stands up. "But I do! I don't understand where it comes from, but I do," he says, holding my face. "Don't you see, they'll always be watching me. If they know I've fallen for you, it will be the end of me. If I sin again, I'll be sent to hell. Making me forget you was just a warning."

I'm taken aback by his confession. "You love me?"

He smiles, and replies, "Yes." He kisses me passionately and my heart beats as loud as a drum, a familiar drum I've heard before. Then he pulls away and tells me, "You have to remember this when you wake up. I can't say these things when the archangels are watching."

"But I am awake," I say.

"No. You are asleep and I have entered your dream. I am real."

"You broke into my dream?"

"To be with you. It's the only place where they can't see us," he explains.

"I... what?"

"Nora, stay asleep. Don't wake up," he tells me as the distance between us grows. "Remember what I told you."

And then he's a hundred yards away, my vision becomes blurry until it's black and I'm in my room again.

There was no beach, no sun, and no Patch.

* * *

**A/N:** They did not have sex, if that's what you thought I meant by _"I allow myself to be taken by him"_. I really need some feedback about this chapter. Was it too fast? Was it unlike Patch? Please give some feedback on this one.


	44. Chapter 44: Never here alone

**A/N:** Thank you very much for your feedback about the last chapter. Patch is indeed very difficult to write and I spend hours trying to get his scenes as perfect as possible. Here are two more chapters but I am working on the next as we speak.

Thanks to: candywasted; Rae; Vickki; Sorry I Just Did (AKA Ranirose272 - thank you for the super long review. Love it!); Rockerchick09; GetInMeTomKaulitz; VarArSkarsgard; and lol0pop.

Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 44:**

"I'm never here alone.

I thought I heard some angel say 'You'll never be alone'.

...

I'm never here alone."

Collective Soul (Never Here Alone)

* * *

My mind was floating yet focused; on what, I wasn't sure but I knew that my thoughts were anchored by something. Something that happened or something that was said was drowning in waves of weariness in my head and I couldn't fish it out.

"Nora?" came a call from downstairs.

I put my feet to the floor and lifted myself off the bed, then walked to the top of the staircase. "Yes?"

My mother appeared from the kitchen side and looked up at me, saying, "Sorry I can't give you a lift today. I have so much paperwork to catch up on."

I gave a nod of the head, slightly disappointed but not wanting to show it. I'd become used to finding my own way to school but there was something calming about riding with my mom. It was ten minutes I'd have with her. Probably nothing would be said in those ten minutes but her presence would warm me to the core. My mom was all I had left in this world and I was glad she was home.

"Love you," she hollered, noticing my cheerless response.

I smiled. "Love you."

She gave me one last glance before she staggered out the door with a leather bag over her shoulder, a Tupperware container under her arm and a bundle of keys in her hands. The door thumped shut.

Alone again.

I walked up to the main street with my denim bag slung over my shoulder. It swung to and fro as I put one sneaker in front of the other. I only noticed this because the walk was tedious and the road leading up to the main street offered nothing for the eye.

When I reached the main street, I walked a few yards to the bus stop and took a seat. According to schedule, the bus would arrive in ten minutes, so I waited. I felt the anchor in my thoughts again, but it wasn't for long.

A dark blue Honda Ballade pulled up in front of me. He didn't have to say it, I knew I was invited for a ride.

"Hi," I smiled, and he grinned back.

He did a check before turning into the road, then he asked, "So what happened?"

"With?"

He gave me a quick look before replying, "Patch... last night... after work."

The anchor weighed on my memory. "We talked." I tried to remember if anything else happened. My mom came home. What else happened?

He gave me an anticipating glance. "And?"

Patch had cleared up a few things for me concerning his actions but how could I explain those answers to Elliot?

"He apologised," I summarised. Was that really all that happened? It felt like I was missing something but each time I tried to pull up the anchor, I just drew a blank.

"Well, that's a start. Come on, Nora, don't hold out on me. Tell me that my plan worked!"

Suddenly I had flashes of last night replay before me: Patch's eyes lingering on me; the way he licked his lip as his eyes fell to my legs; his arm wrapping around me when I was frightened. "Your plan worked."

He nodded, pleased, and I put a hand on his shoulder to thank him.

A moment later, he asked me, "Could you take notes for me in class today?"

"I thought you were going to school. Isn't that why you picked me up?"

"_I'm_ not going to school."

"You're going to the park?"

He shook his head.

"The beach?"

He shook his head again.

"Where to this time?" I asked.

"Portland."

Portland was not around the corner. It wasn't an easy drive up to the beach or the park. What did he want to go to Portland for?

"Oh yeah? What's happening there?"

"Kjirsten's one-year memorial," he said solemnly.

Kjirsten, his girlfriend that allegedly committed suicide. The sudden mention of her name floated like a dark cloud in the air.

"It's today?" I said, more to myself.

He nodded, trying to smile.

"And it's all the way in Portland?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Everyone she knew still lives there. I'm the only outsider."

And in a second I made the decision that he wouldn't be the only outsider. "I'll go with you."

He let out a chuckle.

"I mean, _may_ I go with you?" I guess it was more polite to ask to be invited than to invite myself.

He gave me a quick glance. "What about school? You haven't skipped one class."

"Oh, screw it!" I cursed. "I'd rather be there for you."

His one-sided smile hung at the corner of his mouth. "I'm stronger than I look."

I knew that he didn't mean it literally. He was trying to tell me that he didn't need a shoulder to cry on. So I found another reason.

"Fine then. I like spending time with you. Now can I go to Portland with you?" I asked cheerfully.

He nodded. "That sounds better." And then we drove past the school, heading for the highway; two outsiders together so that neither one would be alone.


	45. Chapter 45: Waiting for the end

**CHAPTER 45:**

"Wishing I had strength to stand,

This is not what I had planned.

It's out of my control.

...

It's hard to let you go.

...

Sitting in an empty room,

Trying to forget the past.

This was never meant to last.

I wish it wasn't so.

I know what it takes to move on.

I know how it feels to lie.

All I want to do

Is trade this life for something new.

Holding on to what I haven't got

...

The hardest part of ending is starting again."

Linkin Park (Waiting for the end)

* * *

Nearly an hour and many Bon Jovi songs later, we arrived in Portland for Kjirsten's memorial. We drove past the church venue and parked around the corner where we could still see the building through the trees. I wasn't dressed smartly enough for the service but I decided I wasn't bothered by it either. I was there for Elliot.

Just as I pulled the door handle and prepared to step out, Elliot reached an arm over to stop me.

"Wait," he said.

"I think they've already started. If we don't go now, we'll miss the whole thing," I told him.

"I know," he said, with a heavy sigh and a serious tone.

"Do you want to miss it?" I asked.

"No," he said, staring ahead. "But I don't have a choice."

"Why? You drove all the way here, you can't _not_ go," I reasoned.

"Everyone she knew is in there."

"Everyone except you," I added.

"Because I'm not welcome."

My heart sank for him. His past was still haunting him. My sins were visible in the form of scars on my face. Elliot's sins were visible on the faces of every other person who came to know about Kjirsten's story. He was not welcome in Coldwater and he was not welcome in Portland.

"We'll wait till everyone leaves, then we'll go in," he explained.

I sat back in my seat and waited until half an hour later, a crowd spilled out of the church doors. Elliot reclined further in his chair as if he didn't want to be seen. I wished for everyone to leave as quickly as possible so that my friend could come out of hiding.

Several minutes later, the last person left the front yard and my wish was granted.

Elliot walked very cautiously toward the church, and I followed. I didn't know what would happen once we got inside but I knew I would be there for him nonetheless.

As we climbed the last step to the open church doors, I could see a large gold-framed picture of Kjirsten at the top of the aisle. I waited for Elliot to enter before I stepped a foot past the threshold. I hadn't been to a church since my dad's funeral so I felt a bit hesitant to enter. That was the last time I saw my dad and the memory of his open-casket service drilled a nail through my bones.

I shook it off and remembered that I had to be strong for someone else.

I watched as Elliot slowly made his way up to Kjirsten's picture and the dozens of flower bouquets below it. He brushed his fingers along the flower petals and smiled. Then he looked up at Kjirsten's picture and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. His face hardened and I could see in his eyes that the touch of the glass was a disappointing feeling. As with my own dad, I would never touch his face again. He was gone and all I had left were pictures behind glass panels. Even when I removed the cold glass fronting, all I could feel was glossy paper and a hole in my heart.

He recoiled suddenly and sat on the nearest pew with his hands over his eyes. I watched to see what would happen, then he choked on a sob.

With immediacy, I sat down next to him and put my arms around him. A wave of sobs followed and he turned to me, taking refuge in my embrace. He rocked as he let out his sadness, and I tried my best to soothe him.

After a few minutes, he was calm and he pulled away to wipe his tears with his shirt. I looked around to see if there were any spare tissues, but there weren't. When I put my attention back on him, I found him staring at her picture again. I prepared myself for the next wave of tears.

After a moment, he looked at me and said, "I didn't do it." He was speaking for the first time in nearly fourty-five minutes; I was listening. "I didn't kill her."

I knew there were allegations against him, pinning Kjirsten's death on him as a murder instead of a suicide. I'd read that he was never convicted and over these last few weeks, it became easier to believe he _really _was innocent. But here he was, saying it out loud to me.

"It was a suicide," I told him, letting him know that I didn't blame him.

With his elbows on his knees, he was hunched over and staring at the blue-carpeted floor, and then he said, "She had nothing to be sad about. She had everything." Then I saw two tear drops fall from his face. "I loved her... I would never hurt her." It came out in strained whispers.

After a few breaths, he spoke softly as if he'd been continuing a sentence from his mind, "He told me that I'd have to choose between her and his money. I chose her... I'd always choose her." He gasped a few times before continuing, "I went to warn her. I told her to leave Portland or stay with a friend so that she'd be safe. But he followed me that night and he killed her himself. I tried to fight him but he was stronger than me... And then he told me that if I disobeyed him again he'd kill my family too." He began sobbing and held his hand over his face.

I couldn't believe what he was telling me. Jules had done all the killing and Elliot was just his pawn possessed by fear.

I put my hand on his back, testing whether he was ready to accept me.

"We could tell the police. Then your name would be cleared," I suggested.

He took a breath and replied, "The real murderer is dead, and there is no evidence to back up my story. I've lived with it for a year already, maybe it will go away eventually."

There was nothing I could say to make him feel better. He'd already made up his mind that he would live with that secret. At least one person knew that he was innocent and that was a start. I wrapped my arms around him once again so that he could share his pain with me.

Several minutes later, he stood up and pulled a paper from his pocket. I stood up with him and he showed the paper to me. It was a photo of Elliot and Kjirsten sharing a kiss with their matching bracelets on display. Then Elliot put a brown leather bracelet around his fingers, with ten white blocks of characters that read 'KJIRSTEN' with a red heart on both ends of her name. When I looked back at the photo I could make out that her bracelet was a little shorter than his, so I presumed that hers had his name between hearts.

He turned over the photo and, in black pen, it read: 'Angels belong in Heaven. Love you always, Elliot.'

He placed the bracelet and the photo on top of the numerous bouquets of flowers and turned around to leave. The light from the church's entrance shone on his red eyes and wet cheeks. I took to his side and he put an arm around my neck.

"Thank you," he told me.

"You're always there for me. I'm always here for you," I said, looking up at him, and he smiled.

Before leaving Portland, we stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank and buy some tissues. We drove back to Coldwater in a happier mood (after Elliot let me cry out a few of my own tears for my father's memory). With a packet of tissues to clean up our emotional spills, Elliot and I were bonded closer than we could ever be.

* * *

**A/N:** I am trying to finish the story before 'Silence' comes out because I have my own version of how the story would end and I don't want you all to think I got it from Becca Fitzpatrick. So, I am working very hard to churn out as many chapters as possible but it's quite difficult when they are emotionally-draining as these last two chapters were for me. I wanted to upload these so that I could recover from the effect they had on me. I was crying like a baby as I wrote them. I hope you enjoyed them.


	46. Chapter 46: Distance

**A/N:** What could I possibly say to make up for taking so long to upload? It has been a difficult one but I hope it has been worth the wait.

Big thanks to: candywasted; Sorry I Just Did; all I need 22; VarArSkarsgard; and bluebloodsrockandisthebest for the fanship. I really appreciate the feedback.

Have you all bought your copy of Silence? Mine should be arriving in the post any day now.

Enjoy...

* * *

**CHAPTER 46:**

"Please don't stand so close to me,

I'm having trouble breathing.

...

I give you everything I am,

All my broken heart beats

Until I know you understand.

And I will make sure to keep my distance,

Say "I love you" when you're not listening.

How long can we keep this?

...

How long till we call this love?"

Christina Perri (Distance)

* * *

We arrived in Coldwater in time for our work shift at Enzo's Bistro. I got nervous when I remembered how I'd ditched school to go on a trip with Elliot. I weighed up which of the two activities would have been more productive and also which was more important. Elliot's cause won on both accounts.

It was a busy work day and I served my first ever table for six. Before that, I'd only ever served anything smaller than a four. They left me a great tip and it elevated my mood for the entire night.

We cashed up, Elliot before me, and I grabbed my things from the staffroom. Elliot's car was idling at the entrance, waiting for me, I guessed.

I exited through the glass door, aiming for Elliot's car. He stuck his head out the window and told me, "Someone's waiting for you," pointing toward the parking lot behind him.

Before he drove off, I followed his direction to a jeep, and a figure emerging from the door on the driver's side.

Patch walked up to me with the confidence I'd come to know, and the black jeans he always wore so well. He held out an arm to take my bag, and I gave it to him. From my hand to his hand, up the arm, around the shoulder, along the neck to his face and its black eyes. _I've been here before._

"You okay?" Patch asked.

I looked at him carefully, trying to remember when I'd done this.

"Just a bit of _déjà vu_," I responded, tentatively.

"We did this last night," he said with a wink. Last night... when he picked me up from work... right?

Then he put an arm around me and walked me to his jeep. There was something so unsettling and so familiar about being close to him.

I climbed into the passenger seat the same time that Patch got into the driver's seat . He plonked my denim bag on the armrest between us and put the key in the ignition.

"Is this going to become a habit?" I asked.

"My parole officer advised me to pick up better habits," he replied.

"Very funny," I said, disregarding his reply. As if I was a charity case.

He looked me over, adding with seductive intent, "I think you are a very good habit to pick up, Nora Grey."

I blushed in my little corner as we left Enzo's parking lot.

"You missed class today," he said.

I was hoping nobody noticed my absence - I would be in big trouble if my mom found out - but Patch noticed.

"Yeah, I was in Portland."

He grinned with amusement, "Was there a spelling bee in Portland?"

He was teasing me and I wasn't going to fight back. So I responded dryly, "Yes."

He quickly looked my way to assess my mood. "Oh, come on," he held my thigh for a quick moment. "Don't be cantankerous."

He caught my attention with that new word (and his hand on my thigh). I looked at him with a questioning brow.

"Can-tan-ke-rous," he broke up each syllable.

"What does that mean?" I asked, intrigued.

He looked my way, "Disagreeable to deal with."

A smile crept on to my face, and Patch's smirk grew. I didn't want to be disagreeable to deal with, I was just too worn out from the day.

Obviously bothered by my lack of chatter, he urged me on. "We only have ten minutes; let's talk."

The anchor that had drowned my memories was finally towed out of the depths of my mind.

Patch... me... the beach... '_Ten minutes was not enough_'... '_I love you_'... '_Remember this when you wake up._'

I suddenly remembered my dream so vividly. I'd dreamed of Patch in my arms, on my lips, in my heart. He'd said he loved me. He'd said he remembered me. He'd told me that we were being watched and no one could know how he'd fallen for me.

_He loves me._

"Having _déjà vu_ again?" he asked.

Our eyes met, and a faint smile crawled in to his expression. Something in his face told me he knew what I was thinking but my brain told me it was impossible.

With my hands in my lap and my eyes on the floor, I tried to tell him what I'd dreamt without getting embarrassed. "Last night, I had a dream-"

"Nora," he cut me off. My eyes found him quickly. "I know," said, suggestively.

"So... it happened?" I clarified.

He nodded his head.

"But how-"

"Nora," he stopped me.

"-is it-"

"Nora," he said, firmly.

"Stop it!" I squealed and slapped my hand over his mouth. His eyebrow arched and I could feel him smiling, then his lips puckered against the palm of my hand and I heard the sound of a kiss. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

He made no sound or movement as he kept his eyes on the road and his hand on the wheel. I removed my hand and settled back into my seat.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It only takes ten minutes to get to my place... maybe you should drive slower," I suggested. I felt the car slow down and then he gave me a smile.

Several minutes later, we pulled into my driveway.

"Stop here," I commanded.

He stopped at the mouth of the driveway in the shadows of the trees, and turned the car off.

"Thirteen minutes," I said. He nodded after checking the clock on the dashboard. "We'll have to make it longer next time."

I felt his eyes on me and I dared to look into them. They held me captive for a few moments longer before exited the jeep.

"Thanks for the ride," I told him, slinging my bag over my shoulder then walked towards my house. Behind me, I heard his jeep start up, then move over the gravel.

"Nora," he called. I looked back. "Sweet dreams."

I felt an ache as I watched him drive off. I wanted to kiss him. I had the perfect opportunity during those last 30 seconds to cure my craving. But I didn't. I was scared.

I was scared of what would happen to him. If we were really being watched from above, could they tell that he had fallen? Could they tell how we really felt about each other? How could they tell? If anything, it looked like Patch was being friendly to me. If I didn't know any better, I'd have said he was just not that into me.

He didn't want me to speak about my dream. Was that meant to be our secret even when it was only the two of us? Was it meant to be a secret of the mind?

With all the confusion of what was or wasn't allowed, I kept my distance. I held back my affections for the sake of protecting him.

I turned my eyes to the house. From a distance, I could tell my mom was home. The downstairs lights were on and I was glad to see she wasn't standing on the porch waiting for me. I'd specifically made Patch stop far from the house so that my mom wouldn't disrupt us.

I made my way through the front door. The dishes had been washed and a pot of pasta sat on the stove, waiting for me to finish it. The kitchen and living room were empty, and I immediately thought my mom was upstairs asleep.

I moved up the stairs as quietly as possible, trying not to wake her. I was two-thirds of the way up when I heard shuffling in a room upstairs. I couldn't be sure which room it came from but I suspected that my mom had turned over in her bed.

At the top of the stairs, I heard the shuffling again. It was coming from the study.

I tip-toed to the doorway of the study and eased my head past the doorframe.

In the darkness, aided by the dim lighting of the desk lamp sat my mom, reading through some papers. I stepped into the room casually, dropping the urgency to be quiet.

My mom shot up in shock, then held her hand against her chest.

"Sorry," I chuckled. "I thought you were in bed." She caught her breath and stacked the papers together into a drawer. "What are you up to?"

"Going through the post," she sighed and came out from her seat.

I walked nearer to her, saying, "I could have done that for you but it's illegal to open post that isn't addressed to me."

"That's all right," she smiled, and walked out of the room with me. "How was your day?"

_You were at school, as usual. You did not skip class. You did not drive to another town with a boy._

"The usual. School then work... now here." I tried to sound indifferent about it. "Did you manage to get through that paperwork from this morning?"

We entered her room where she retrieved her green gown from the back of the door. She slipped it on and closed it around her waist, replying, "Yes, but I had to work over time. I only left the office after eight."

I gave her my sympathies as she lead me to my room. I put my bag down and started undressing so that I could get into my pyjamas while my mom took a seat on my bed.

"And how is your girlfriend doing?" she asked as I pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms.

"I haven't seen Vee since Wednesday morning but I guess she's still well."

I threw a baggy t-shirt on and stepped into my slippers. "Have you had supper already?"

She nodded.

We walked downstairs together and parted ways at the bottom of the staircase; I went to the kitchen and she went to the living room, settling on the couch with the remote in her hand.

I dished some slightly cold pasta into a bowl and put it in the microwave for two minutes while I poured myself a glass of ice-cold soda.

"That show with that guy is going to be on," my mom hollered across the room.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Which show?"

"The one that I like. The funny one with the smart people," she replied.

I took a long moment to remember which show my mom actually watched with those descriptive tags. The microwave beeped and I removed my bowl. I picked up my drink and moved to the lounge.

_The Big Bang Theory_ theme tune began playing and I sang along.

"This is the show I'm talking about," my mom pointed.

I took a seat next to her with my bowl in hand. "It's called _The Big Bang Theory_, mom. Remember the song and you won't forget it."

"Okay, later. It's starting now."

Before I knew it, the show was over and we had fallen asleep on the couch. I got up and realised there was no way the two of us could sleep comfortably on the couch.

I covered her with the standby blanket we kept in the lounge, kissed her on the cheek and went to sleep in my bed.


	47. Chapter 47: Bloodstream

**CHAPTER 47:**

"I think I might've inhaled you.  
I can feel you behind my eyes.  
You've gotten into my bloodstream,  
I can feel you floating in me."

Stateless (Bloodstream)

* * *

The wind strokes my skin as the sand explores between my toes. The waves crash at the shoreline and the sun's rays warm my skin. I have been here before, even wearing the same frilly shorts and tank top.

Behind me I hear the sand move like steps coming toward me, and I turn around. His chest is bare and there is a glow behind him, tinting the edges of his black hair with a golden shine. I walk around him to investigate and there I see two lines that form an upside-down 'V', glowing dimly.

I touch them but I feel nothing, only the warmth of his skin.

"My wings," he smiles over his shoulder.

"Where are they?" I ask.

"You're touching them... But you can't feel them."

I put my hands on his back and feel the lines from top to bottom. The light glows through and over my hands, like a ghost. _Beautiful_.

I put my arms around him and hug his back, feeling his hands cover mine while his back warms my cheek. I can hear the ocean in him. I am at peace.

"How long do I have to keep this up?" I ask.

I hear his lungs rumble. "You can let go anytime you want to."

I laugh with him. "Never." He rubs my hand. "How long do we have to keep this a secret?"

He sighs but doesn't answer.

"Then _explain_ to me how I'm supposed to keep this secret. What are the rules? What am I not allowed to say? What am I not allowed to do?"

He turns around and takes my hands in his, stroking them with his thumbs. "Anything like this," he says, eyeing our hands. "None of this," he adds, putting his hand against my cheek. "... or this."

In a moment, his mouth is against mine and I am stumbling backwards and swept off my feet to be placed gently on my back on the sand. His body is pressed against mine, my fingers run through his hair to pull him closer. His hands are all over me – hips, thighs, face, neck, arms, waist, stomach, chest – as his lips exhibit their yearning for more.

His eyes open as he pulls away from our kiss. My eyes meet his as he hovers over me, taking me in. He kisses me softly on the mouth, all the while holding me gaze.

"Definitely none of that," he smirks.

I take a minute to bask in the sexual energy that is surging through my body, while he settles himself at my side with his legs hooking around mine.

He leans his head on his upright arm with his side nestled into the sand, against me.

"But you kissed me at Bo's. Was that allowed?" I ask, staring up at the sky.

"I didn't know what I was feeling then. It's a little hard to hide it now," he replies, caressing his thumb against my cheek. His eyes swallow me.

"So I can never kiss you in public?"

"I wouldn't take the risk," he says grimly.

"I would!" I say, introducing my lips to his again.

He smiles, accepting my kiss, then responds, "Don't... I don't know what would happen."

He is scared for a moment. I've never seen him scared before.

"You're different," I tell him.

"As opposed to what?"

"Outside of this, you know, in reality. Is that why they call it a dream? Am I imagining you this way?"

He sits up and laughs. I get up and sit in his lap, putting my hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes.

"Why are you different here?" I ask him.

His brow creases. "It's safe here."

"If it's so safe, how did you get in?" I tease.

"It takes a lot of energy to get in."

"Can others get in too?" I worried.

"Yeah, but why would they want to?" he asks.

"Well, look at how much fun we've been having. Who _wouldn't_ want to?" I put my arms around his neck to lock him in place for another kiss.

"You're different too," he says. "You're not scared."

"I'm not scared of you, Patch," I tell him.

"Not me. You," he answers. I look at him, unsure of what he means. He taps his finger against my heart. "In here, you're afraid."

I look down, away from his eyes. "I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't," he says and picks my chin up. His eyes calm me and then he kisses me. "Keep this a secret. Don't speak about it when you're awake."

"What if I forget again? It took me so long to remember what happened the last time."

"You'll remember. I'll be here till you wake up."

I hook my chin over his shoulder, hugging him as I sit in his lap.

"What were you doing in Portland?" he asks after a moment.

"Elliot and I went to a memorial service," I reply, still hugging him.

"For who?"

"His girlfriend. She died a year ago."

"What happened?"

"She was murdered," I answer.

He pauses before responding, "Your dad."

I pull away to face him. "My dad?"

"He was murdered, wasn't he?" he asks in deep thought.

"Yes. You remember?"

He doesn't respond immediately. "I shouldn't remember that."

"But you do. How do you remember that?"

He shakes his head slightly as if he's having an internal debate. Our eyes meet, waiting for answers. But we know there are no answers. Only hope.


	48. Chapter 48: Secret smile

**CHAPTER 48:**

"Nobody knows it but you've got a secret smile,

And you use it only for me."

Semisonic (Secret Smile)

* * *

Just like he promised, Patch stayed with me until I woke up (in the 'arms' of my pillow). I didn't understand how we could have lived all those moments in my dreams. I didn't understand how his soul could remember me. I didn't understand how his memories were coming back. I didn't understand it at all, but I accepted that it was magical, paranormal and incomprehensible. I wasn't going to burden my scientific mind with the rules of this magic. I was enchanted by it and I would enjoy it because it was the only way I could be with Patch. I was learning to accept that too.

It was Friday morning, the last day of summer school, and I was getting a lift from my mom. She could only take me to school if we left slightly earlier so that she could arrive at work on time. I empathised with my mom for the amount of hours she put in at work. I wished that I could work those hours for her; maybe trade in my job at Enzo's for an office job with my mom. I'd work for minimum wage and twice the effort just so that my mom could spend more time at home.

Just as we turned out of the driveway, I got a text from Vee: _Party 2moro nite. U game?_

After a few seconds of trying to remember whether I'd heard any mention of a party and then coming up blank, I texted back: _Party? Send details._

"Are you working tonight?" my mom asked. I said yes. "What about tomorrow? It's Saturday and I was thinking we could have a little girl time."

I hated to disappoint her. "Sorry, mom. I'm working a double shift on Saturday and there's no way I can get out of it."

"That's all right. Maybe we can just have a Saturday night-in with a rom-com when you're done."

I really appreciated her effort. The daughter in me wanted to spend time with her mother but the teenager in me was excited for a party. Life is so hard!

"Sounds good, but I'll only get home around eleven because it's the weekend and it gets really busy, so sometimes we stay open a little longer. The weekends are the best shifts to make money." What I really meant was _Patch and I are going to take a long, slow drive from Enzo's to my house so that we can spend more time together and all this other crap is just a cover-up to buy me some time to satisfy my hormonal needs._

My mom sighed at my answer. "Never mind. I'll probably be passed out by that time."

I shook my head and teased, "You're getting old, mom."

"Heck no! I'm twenty-one forever," she retorted.

I giggled, remembering that every birthday my mom would demand that her true age never be revealed but replaced with '21'. Every birthday she would never age, in theory, but the evidence was clear in the photographs. The cake always said 21 but she continued to change.

I hopped out of my mom's car and into school. Clara found me at my locker and greeted me in a friendly manner.

"It's looking good," she pointed to my cheek, and I suddenly became self-conscious of my scars again. They were lightening up and, according to _Yahoo! answers,_ would be gone in a few days. I smiled for the compliment any way. "So are you going to the party this weekend?" she hung around to ask.

"I've been hearing a lot about this party. What's happening?" I asked.

"Chanel whatever-her-name-is is having a house party."

"You don't even know whose party it is?" I said, incredulously.

Clara shrugged in her _My Chemical Romance_ t-shirt. "She's a senior. I've only heard about her; it's not like we dye each other's hair. Besides, she's basically invited the whole school."

"I'm surprised. I didn't think pop was your scene," I replied, alluding to the music and the people.

She raised her eyebrows into a sneaky expression. "I'm a closet Justin Bieber fan." I chuckled and then she revealed her true intention. "Well, I'm not but I'm sure Marcie is and I guarantee she'll be there so if you want to finish what we started on Monday..."

All I could do was laugh in shock. "I didn't start anything."

"Well, she says you're having fun with her man."

"I'm not," I lied, trying to suppress the memories of last night.

Clara laughed. "I'm only playing. Chill." I tried to look amused. "Too bad you aren't, 'cause I would _so _play with him; any sport, any position. Mmh!"

I cringed at her words but found her enthusiasm extremely funny. As she left my company, I took a little pride in knowing I had had _some_ fun with Patch and that I was regarded so highly by a hot specimen like him. A hot specimen that was in demand, but chose to spend his time with me. I blushed at the thought.

I made my way to bio class, passing Marcie and Patch who were having a conversation dominated by the former. In her loud voice I overheard her talking about her appointment at the tanning salon in the afternoon and how she wanted to be as brown as Patch was.

_I can't wait to see you in those frilly shorts again. Work those legs, Nora. Yeow!_

The voice was definitely in my head.

I looked back at Patch and he smiled, keeping his eyes on Marcie.

"What's funny?" I heard Marcie ask him, flirtatiously.

"Nothing," he told her and straightened his face again.

_See you tonight, Legs._ And then a picture flashed in my mind: Patch's hand gripping my thigh and his tongue on my neck. The image sent warm vibrations through my body and I blushed.

I gave Patch one quick look over my shoulder and his secret smile showed itself for a millisecond to acknowledge me without giving himself away.

Our secret would stay within the confines of my mind.

The last summer class was a restless one but it was over at long last. Students rushed out of class and crowds spilled into the parking lot to make their way home. Elliot hooked an arm around my neck and lead me to his car. He gave me a lift to Enzo's for another day of work.

After the lunch rush, Elliot and I were cleaning up our respective tables and he began telling me about the crazy party that everyone was going to on Saturday night. I hadn't made up my mind yet about going to the party because even if I did, I'd still have to get permission from my mom anyway. So then he went on to ask me about my plans for the rest of my short summer holiday.

"I haven't even thought about it," I shrugged, stacking plates on my tray. "Maybe get some rest."

He began laughing as if a joke was coming. "What do you do when you're not working? Getting freaky with Patch?" He thrusted his pelvis.

I gasped and denied it immediately.

He chuckled, very amused by my reaction. "What do you guys do then? You've got the _hots_ for each other, don't you?"

I tried to plant my palm against his mouth to shut him up but he ducked to the side. "Elliot!"

"What?" he laughed.

I sighed when he wouldn't share my seriousness. He took notice and moved closer to hear what I had to say.

"You have to keep it a secret. You can't tell anyone – especially people from school – about me and Patch... because nothing is going on and I don't want any rumours getting started. Marcie will kill me this time!"

Patch said that I was not allowed to talk about our secret while I was awake because we were being watched by higher powers. We had to make sure it looked like there was nothing going on between the two of us 'in public' (i.e. while I was awake). So if I was going to keep the secret, I had to make sure Elliot could keep it too.

"I haven't told anyone," he reassured me. "And I wouldn't either." I smiled and thanked him.

Just as I picked my tray up from the table and turned to take it to the kitchen, my mom entered Enzo's. I was pleasantly surprised and rested my tray back on to the table immediately to greet her.

"What are you doing here?" I said, smiling.

"I wanted to see where you work."

"Well, this is it," I looked back and pointed out the entire space with my hands.

"I can see that. Can you take a break now?"

"Um..." I had to think about whether I was _that _hungry yet and whether I was going to use my lunch break this early in the shift. I knew I'd need it later when my back and legs were killing me. "What do you want to do?"

"Have lunch. How long is your break? My lunch break is only an hour."

"Mine's an hour," I replied. "Where do you want to eat?"

"Either here or that nice Tea Garden place down the street."

"Not here," I pulled my face, disapprovingly. I loved eating at Enzo's but after working there every day, I longed for a new scenery. "I'll talk to Lesley. Wait here."

I found Lesley in the kitchen and explained to her that my mom wanted to spend her lunch break with me and asked for permission to go on lunch too. She agreed to it as long as my tables were clean and their accounts had been closed.

With that, I quickly changed out of my Enzo's top and into the green t-shirt I'd worn to school that day. I didn't want the Tea Garden waiters to know where I'd come from.

I grabbed my shoulder bag and rushed to meet my mom.

"Don't worry. I've got your tray."

I looked back to Elliot who rocked back and forth on his heels next to the tray I'd left on the table. I hadn't complied with Lesley's conditions for leaving. Whoops!

I hurried to his side to finish the chore, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Nora. I said I've got it."

"Thanks. I owe you," I said aloud as I went back to my mom.

When we were out of the shop and on the sidewalk, my mom asked, "What do you owe him? I hope he's stopped hassling you for your class notes."

For a moment I couldn't even guess what she was on about but then I remembered the one night when Elliot was drunk and showed up at my house, demanding I go camping with him, Jules and Vee. I kept telling him 'no' and tried to get him to leave but he got a little physical with me, at which point my mom stepped outside and asked what was going on.

I couldn't tell her the truth so I told her that he was hounding me for my Shakespeare notes or something. It must have really worried my mom because she still remembered it and seemed bothered by my last words to him. I had to set the record straight... in my own way.

"No, don't worry. It turns out that he was going through a really tough time back then. His girlfriend committed suicide and he wasn't coping too well."

My mom tensed up at the news. "That's terrible."

"Yeah," I agreed, continuing our walk towards The Tea Garden. "He's doing much better now. He's actually a really nice guy." These were all the things parents wanted to hear and they were easy to say because they were true in Elliot's case.

The Tea Garden was a lovely restaurant with a shady garden. The decor was yellow and white with splashes of green and pink. It was a relaxing atmosphere for my mom and I to have our 'girl time'.


	49. Chapter 49: Stay the night

**CHAPTER 49:**

"If this is what we've got,

then what we've got is gold.  
We're shining bright and I want you,

I want you to know.  
The morning's on its way,

our friends all say goodbye.  
There's nowhere else to go,

I hope that you'll stay the night.

...

And I'll say I don't wanna say good night.  
There's no quiet corner to get to know each other,  
Then there's no hurry.

I'm a patient man as you'll discover."

James Blunt (Stay the night)

* * *

The last hours of my shift dragged on. This time, not even Elliot could distract me long enough to stop thinking about Patch.

For the past two nights, Patch has shown up at Enzo's, given me a lift home and later, entered my dreams so that we could _really_ be together. I hoped that the pattern would repeat itself tonight, otherwise the whole day would have been punishment without reward.

After being cashed up, I took my bag and went to the ladies room. I unbuttoned my Enzo's top and changed into my casual green top from school. I took my hair out of its bun and ran my fingers through to relax it from its previous form. I sprayed a bit of deodorant under my arms and around myself to mask any odours, and then checked my face for any marks. I dapped on a bit of lip balm to make myself appear fresher and smiled for the full effect.

Once I felt ready to be seen by a super hot boy, I left the bathroom and began my slow walk toward the exit. What if Patch didn't show up tonight?

From the mouth of the passage that lead to the toilets, I turned the corner and saw the glass-fronted entrance of the shop. I walked closer, keeping my eyes focused on any movement in front of the shop. I was twelve feet from the door when a black Jeep Commander speedily pulled up, adjacent to the entrance. The black-tinted window eased down and a smirk directed itself at me.

Patch.

I walked hurriedly out the door, trying not to look too eager, and climbed into the passenger side of the jeep. He gave a quick look at my legs then up to my face and smiled, letting out a quick "Mmh!" before he let his foot off the break.

I blushed, knowing that he was pleased with my appearance. What I really wanted to do was throw myself at him but being the _wuss_ that I am, I kept myself to myself. _When I go to sleep, I will be rewarded._

Patch was driving about 20 miles an hour, which meant we'd be in for a longer ride this time. We weren't allowed to talk about our 'secret' so I had to find other topics to enjoy the time by.

"Did you have a good day?" I started.

He looked amused by my question. "It was all right. Yours?"

"It was a good day for making money," I smiled, thinking of my tips.

"Are you going to spend that on a new outfit for the party tomorrow?" he asked. Why was everyone so obsessed with this party? It's all anyone can talk about.

"No. That's what Vee does. I'm saving up for a car," I said enthusiastically.

"Good investment. I'll sell this one to you if you want it," he offered.

"What would you drive?"

"I'll play for something better," he said smugly, referring to his poker games.

I stared at him, amazed at his over-confidence. "Cocky much?"

"Very much," he said, alluringly. And he had reason to be.

After a little pause, I asked, "Why do you always wear black?"

"It brings out the colour of my soul," he replied evenly.

I let out a laugh and my head fell back as I closed my eyes. Once I calmed down I asked for a serious answer.

"It's easy to colour co-ordinate," he offered.

"But there are other colours that go with black... Like green," I tugged the bottom of my top to show him.

He gave me a questioning look. I made my seatbelt longer and sat closer to him, resting my elbow on the armrest between us. I put my shoulder against his to show him how the colour contrast fit. He turned his head to look.

"See?" I said, then lifted my head to see if he was looking. His face was inches from mine and I had the urge to bring my lips closer to his, but before I could finish the thought his eyes were back on the road.

"They look good together," he remarked.

I returned to my seat, knowing that I had to keep my distance. "Ask me something," I told him.

After a moment of thought he asked, "Was yesterday the first time you skipped class?"

"Yes," I gushed. "Was it really that big of a deal?"

"Well, it was your first time. You've opened the floodgates now and it's only a matter of time before you're skipping classes left, right and centre."

I laughed off his prediction.

"Do you feel _bad_?" He said 'bad' the way that Michael Jackson meant it in that song of his.

I giggled. "No. It was only one time. It's not like I'm starting a rebellion against education."

"You should. Twelve years of public school is torture," he commented.

"But you never went to school before this so how can you say that?"

"Is there a single kid who looks back on their life and says 'Those twelve years were the best years of my life'?"

"I wouldn't know. I hang out with people my own age," I countered, cheekily. He laughed sarcastically which sounded like 'Aha'. "Except for you." I quickly realised my fault. "Okay, my turn. Why wouldn't _SAW four_ be your choice of movie?"

It was a lie that we had watched a movie together the Friday night that his 'girlfriend' Marcie had her huge house party but it was the lie that we had created together as my alibi.

He laughed slightly, at my randomness I guessed, then answered, "Horror franchises are the worst pieces of film ever conceived. They reveal humans at their lowest level of evolution - blood-thirsty, cruel and stupid. Why do they _always_ run up the stairs?"

I laughed at that. "Does your kind think less of us _humans_?"

"In general, yes," he replied.

"What do _you _think of us?"

He took a second before answering. "Your naivety is_ cute_ but your passion is breathtaking," he said, in awe.

"And what do you think about me?" I dared to ask.

He kept one hand on the wheel and directed his flirtatious gaze at me. A sudden image of him taking me passionately in the car flashed in my mind. "You're all right," he replied with a wink and put his eyes back on the road.

I knew it was his doing again, just like he did earlier at school. I felt his desire and bit my lip at the thought of it actually happening.

"Yeah, you're okay-ish," I said. He smiled revealing his teeth, something that didn't happen often.

"You glad to have your mom home?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, joyfully. "She took me out for lunch today. That's a _huge_ deal because work consumes all of her time. But we need the money so..." I shrugged feeling that was self-explanatory.

"Humans are the only species that pay to live on Earth," he said, amused.

I thought about that, trying to think of a flaw in his statement but couldn't. "You're right! That's not fair."

"Nothing is fair," he said. "A monetary system was inevitable and it's kind of smart, if you ask me."

So I asked him, "Why do you think so?"

"If everything has a price and that price is calculated in a single currency, then it's easy to exchange goods for money. But if you kept things the way they were long ago when bartering was the only way to exchange goods, how could you estimate the value of one object in exchange for another?" He paused. "Everything has a price. It's too bad _money_ can't pay the price for everything."

I had a feeling he wasn't talking about the price of goods, more like the price of actions. It was a topic I didn't think he could explain to me 'in public' so I left it alone.

Some time later, Patch pulled into my driveway and stopped where he had the night before. This time, the trip had lasted 20 minutes. I thanked him for the lift and got out of the car.

"Good night, Angel," he said. The name was like a vacuum sucking my insides. I froze and looked back at him. He reacted with a smile. He remembered.

I recall when he first called me Angel... I hated it. The feminist in me fought him to take the name back. The girl in me loved to have a pet name given specially by him. And the deeper my feelings got, the more I wanted to hear him call me Angel. _His_ Angel the way he was _my_ Angel.

"Good night," I smiled and walked up the driveway to my home.


	50. Chapter 50: Chasing cars

**CHAPTER 50:**

"We'll do it all, everything, on our own.

We don't need anything or anyone.

...

All that I am, all that I ever was,

is here in your perfect eyes. They're all I can see.

I don't know where, Confused about how as well.

Just know that these things will never change for us at all.

If I lay here,

If I just lay here,

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"

Snow Patrol (Chasing Cars)

* * *

The winds ruffle the frills of my shorts and the curls of my hair. The waves crash at the shore but I am on dry sand. I smile because I am home.

I turn around knowingly and I see him staring at me, intrigued.

"You're here!" I shout, running into his arms. He lifts me up and spins me around. Freedom.

He puts me down and plants passionate kisses on my lips. I can tell he's been waiting to share them with me since the last time we were here. And I have been waiting eagerly to receive them.

"I've been waiting all day for that!" I say, out of breath, and he responds with another forceful kiss.

My heart beats harder for him and it feels like we spend hours in embrace before we even say another word.

"Can you wait for me, Angel?" he asks, holding my face in his hands.

"What do you mean?"

"Until I find a way to be with you."

"But you're here now," I say, looking into his deep, black eyes.

"But is it enough?" he says, desperately.

"But there is no other way... is there?"

"If I became human... the angel laws couldn't touch me," he says, deep in thought.

"But how? Your nephil is dead."

He looks away, haunted by my statement.

"Could you get a new one?" I suggest.

"For that, I'd have to fall again because only fallen angels can possess nepilim. But if I fall again, I'll be sent to hell... And then I can _never_ be with you." His eyes show his pain.

I throw my arms around him and tell him, "No! This is good enough! I can wait! All I want is to be with you. And if this is all we have, then this is good enough! Please don't go. I don't want to lose you!"

His arms wrap around me and he whispers in my ear, "This is not enough. But it's all we have. I would rather have this than to lose you completely. I _can't_ lose you again."

I pull away and look deep into his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here, always."

He crushes his mouth against mine then lays me down. He takes his place beside me and I cuddle him as he strokes my hair away from my face.

"I love you," he whispers.

I look up to meet his eyes. "I love you." He kisses my forehead and I smile.

And we lay there, heart to heart, in our secret world, knowing that it would end soon.

* * *

**A/N:** Did I satisfy your Patch craving?


	51. Chapter 51: Boots & boys

**A/N:** I really have no reason for taking so long to update except that I was extremely distracted. When you read the rest of these chapters you'll understand why it was much harder to write than the others. All I can do is apologise for keeping you all waiting. I promise you that next Sunday, I will have a new batch of chapters because they have already been written. I just need to buy myself some time to play catch up.

Once again, I have to thank my lovely minions for supporting me: candywasted; Sorry I Just Did; bluebloodsrockandisthebest; Joanna; lilmsnoyes; costachelseacoffee; lilianneherondale; and VarArSkarsgard. Yes, this is the best shit ever because of all of you. You keep me going.

I haven't read Silence yet, so don't give me any spoilers but please review. I'm looking forward to what you think.

* * *

**CHAPTER 51:**

"I'm keeping quite the collection,

Take nothing less than perfection.

Cowboy boots, cowboy boys.

Oh, the joy!

...

Something 'bout boots and boys; they bring me so much joy.

I gotta say it, I wear 'em both so pretty as I walk in the city.

Watch out, boots and boys!

Give me boots and boys!"

Ke$ha (Boots & Boys)

* * *

It was a sunny Saturday and the first thing on Vee's agenda was shopping. She was getting dressed to the sounds of Kelly Clarkson, belting out the angry lyrics but never meaning them because she was happy.

This summer had started out horrifically when her best friend's boyfriend abandoned her for two weeks just to show up again with her sworn enemy. She had to console her best friend while she got on her feet again, with the help of a boy. A very cute boy called Elliot.

Vee had a very cute boy of her own – more a man than a boy, but she had always had a thing for older men. Rixon was only 20 but that was as old as she could go while she was still 16. Large age gaps were frowned upon and she didn't want to become the talk of the town.

She heard a car honk its horn in her driveway and when she peered out the window she saw that it was _him_. Her heart jumped and she quickly checked that her appearance was up to par, then grabbed her purple handbag and jingled down the stairs and into his car.

"Hey, love," he greeted in his Irish accent as she settled into her seat.

She gave him a peck on the lips and smiled. "Hey, babe."

"So what's the plan?" he asked.

"Let's start at _Ruby's_ and work our way down the street."

He sighed.

"Aw, come on. You offered to go shopping with me. Don't be a baby now. Take it like a man!" she ended in a burly voice.

"That's when I thought you already knew what you wanted. Now you're telling me you still have to browse."

"This is the mystery of shopping – you might have an idea of what you want but the stores won't always have it. So the idea changes until you just give up and buy something completely different. And that is why we're going to start with _no_ idea so that we can just skip the disappointment and go on to buying what the fashion gods have intended for me." She made gestures with her hands as she explained this to him.

He gave an exasperated sigh and started up the car. "Let's try to stay focused this time. One outfit – two max – but we're not ending up with six bags of clothing again. Got it?" He eyed her.

She nodded. "Got it. As long as I get _one _hot outfit for tonight's party, it's all good." She knew that there was no telling how the day would go but she promised to stay focused for his sake.

After four hours of shopping from _Ruby's Boutique_ all the way down the street to H&M, Vee had finally completed her outfit with a perfect set of earrings and a cute headband.

"Your receipt's in the bag. Have a nice day," the cashier said as he handed Vee her newly-purchased items.

"Thank you," Vee smiled widely, taking the bag and spinning away from the counter.

"Is your outfit complete now?" Rixon asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Vee took his hand and replied, "Yes! But now we have to get something for you."

"No, we don't," he quickly said. "Unlike you, my dear, I wear my clothes more than once."

"Yeah, like that green shirt you wear over and over again," she said.

He pulled her into his side and put an arm around her neck as 'punishment' for insulting his style, but she giggled as he kissed her head.

"Let's get you something new, my treat," she offered.

"Fine," he agreed, after a moment.

Further up the street, they entered _Macy's_ where Vee was determined to find a shirt that showed off her boyfriend's torso the best. Rixon gave a quick scan of the clothes on the shelves and the hangers while Vee assessed the clothing the mannequins had on.

"Look at that red one," she told him, pointing at the mannequin in the aisle wearing a red, button-up shirt folded to the elbows. Rixon hardly had a reaction so she pulled one of the red shirts out and held it against his chest. Her eyebrow rose and a slight moan of pleasure escaped her.

"You like it?" he asked, hearing her response.

She nodded. "Red looks really good on you."

He smiled.

"What size are you?" she asked, noticing that the one she was holding would be a tad bit small for him.

"Um..." he thought.

"You don't know?" she laughed.

"I don't wear button-ups. I normally go for stretch. It's easier to slip off," he explained.

"Hah! Hah!" she laughed. "Is that so? Aren't buttons so much more fun to rip off though?"

He grinned.

She decided to pull out two sizes that were more accommodating for his build – tall and lanky but layered in muscle. She handed them to him and asked him to try them on.

"I'm sure this one will fit," he said, referring to the bigger size.

"And if it doesn't, do you want us to come back and return it for another size?" she asked.

"I'll try them on," he surrendered, and walked toward the changing room.

Rixon disliked shopping – not because it was tedious and time-consuming, because that didn't matter to an immortal like him. He was never interested in browsing for something you might like but never being absolutely sure that you want it, but buying it anyway.

He didn't care for clothing or shoes or bags or watches. He knew that these were things he'd have to accept as part of his lifestyle to fit in as a human but he never cared for the small things. He was used to playing for big-ticket items like cars and lofts and lives. These were the things humans cared about and to possess them meant you had power.

To Rixon's relief, there was a short queue at the fitting room. The man in front of him had his items counted and entered a curtained-cubicle to try the clothes on. Rixon bided his time by spying out the area for the nearest open cubicle when he noticed one cubicle hadn't been closed properly.

Through a slit between the curtain and the cubicle divider, Rixon saw a man undressing in the reflection of the mirror. He was buttoning the last few notches on his blue shirt, covering up the scars that were on his chest. There was something very familiar about those scars and in an instant he recognised the ancient writing.

When it was Rixon's turn to take a cubicle, he took the empty one next to the man. He closed the curtain and waited. He was too concerned with what he'd just discovered to focus on trying on a silly shirt, knowing that the man next door could leave any minute.

So he waited and listened for the curtain to jingle open across the rail...


	52. Chapter 52: Hot like wow

**CHAPTER 52:**

"You caught me staring at you,

Hot Like Wow!

...

You know you make me blush.

You got a body that is

Hot Like Wow!"

Nadia Oh (Hot Like Wow)

* * *

Vee was browsing the men's department with another shirt in her hand as she waited for Rixon to return from the fitting rooms. She thought about how nice a set of cargo shorts would compliment his new shirt, and then she thought of how she'd love to show him off to the world.

"I'm done," Rixon said, walking up behind her.

"And?" she said excitedly.

"You're right. Red is my colour."

"But how do they fit?" she asked.

He held up one of the unpacked shirts, saying, "The bigger one."

"Good. I found you another green shirt so you can give the other one a rest," she smiled.

"Great. Let's get it."

"Don't you want to look around some more?" she asked.

"No. I'm good to go," he pulled on a smile.

She took his hand and they made their way to the tills, Rixon making sure to never lose sight of the man from the fitting rooms.

After ten minutes of waiting in line and finally paying for their goods, Rixon lead Vee by the hand out of _Macy's_ before she could fall in love with a new item. He had bigger plans for the day but he had to wait for the right opportunity.

The man, in his white collar shirt and black slacks, walked up to his black car and put his newly-purchased shirt into the backseat. Rixon reacted quickly by holding Vee back a moment - with a distracting kiss - to give the man some time to get ahead of them again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rixon saw the man leaving his car with a book in hand, walking down the street.

"Shall we go for lunch?" Vee asked.

"Um..." he tried to delay.

He knew he could never feel hungry, that was obvious, but he had to decide how Vee's new plan would fit with his essential goal. If he committed to having lunch at this instant, the man would get away. If he turned down the offer for lunch, they would have to find something else to do for the day which probably meant leaving for the car and driving away from this opportunity. Either way, he was going to lose.

"How about we just carry on walking for a bit?" he finally suggested. But he could tell that she had her 'hungry face' on and knew she would probably decide on the restaurant right then and there. So he used his_ gift_ and put the idea in her mind that they would find a nice restaurant further down the street.

"Okay," she agreed and they carried on walking, shopping bags in hand.

Any minute, the plan could change and Rixon had to be prepared to go along with it. He had to get that man alone. He had to see his scars. They were pinned to his mind and he couldn't shake them off.

Two minutes later, the man entered a coffee shop and Rixon reacted immediately.

"Let's go to Starbucks," he said, pointing at the shop the man had just entered.

"Oh, yes! I'm dying for a coffee. Shopping is so tiring," she agreed.

He smiled. He didn't even have to use his gift.

They entered the shop and fell in the queue, three places behind the man from the store who was the next to be served.

"What are you going to have?" Vee asked 15 seconds later with her arm around Rixon's waist.

He looked at the menu boards overhead and replied, "Still thinking."

She looked up at him, "Better hurry up. We're next."

Just then the barista called, "Next please."

Vee pulled Rixon a step further to the counter and placed her order. "Triple two-thirds decaf, four pumps sugar-free hazelnut, one pump mocha, soy, extra hot, extra foam latte _grande_."

The barista wrote it down quickly. "And for you, sir?"

Rixon looked on in astonishment. "Just a regular coffee," he said, putting his focus on to Vee and taking note of where the man took his seat.

"Size?"

"Regular."

"Full-caf or decaf?"

"Full."

"Non-fat, low-fat, soy or organic milk?" the barista asked.

Rixon swung his head to face the boy, threatening him with his eyes. The barista swallowed his fear and said nothing more. He retreated to the coffee machine to prepare the two orders while Rixon stuck the money on the counter.

Vee chuckled. "You have to learn to order from _Starbucks_, babe."

"What is this world coming to when people don't even know what a _regular coffee_ is anymore? Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"

"Let me do the ordering next time," she smiled.

He looked down at her, unsure. "I don't want a lady drink!"

Vee laughed. "I won't get you a lady drink. Promise."

"Fine," he agreed and kissed her lips when she pouted for him.

At the end of the counter, he picked up the two coffees and followed Vee to a table behind the man from the store. As she walked down the aisle she picked her bags up higher than the height of the table to stop them from hooking on the table legs. Just as she passed the man from the store, he brought his coffee to his mouth and her shopping bags knocked the coffee into his face and down his shirt. The lid fell on to the seat and the cup rolled off his lap. In one moment, the man was soaked in coffee.

"Oh my gosh! Sorry!" she quickly apologised and looked back, dropping the bags where she stood.

The man had no reaction except to look down at his white, stained shirt and then up to the voluptuous blonde apologising for the spill.

She stood in front of him to apologise properly then recognised him.

"Detective Basso?" she said with excited surprise. "Oh my gosh! I'm _so_ sorry."

Basso looked up at her, annoyed.

"Do you remember me? Vee Sky? I got attacked in the cemetery and my arm was broken."

He gave a small nod and the corners of his mouth pulled up in a tight smile to acknowledge her.

She slanted back as if to get a better view. "Well, well, well. Maybe I'm not sorry," she said, noticing how the wet cotton hugged his skin, mapping out the contours of his shoulders and pectorals.

"Excuse me?" he said, offended at her retracting her apology.

"The police department is working you _out_!" she dragged out the last word. "I didn't realise coffee could make shirts _that_ transparent." She took a mental picture of what the liquid revealed.

Basso's face twitched with discomfort.

"If you want, you can take that off and I'll rinse it out in the bathroom. It's the least I could do," she offered.

"No, thank you," Basso said firmly. "I'll do that myself." He got up from his seat and headed for the bathroom, taking his book with him, as Vee watched him leave until Rixon cut off her view.

"What?" she said, knowing exactly why he was looking at her _that_ way. She could've apologised but she didn't really want to. She'd always had a crush on Detective Basso in a Tony Danza kind of way and she was too excited from seeing his muscled chest to apologize for getting excited about it. If Rixon were a 16-year-old girl he would understand. And if Vee was in Rixon's shoes, she'd undoubtedly let him have his moment with muscled hunk.


	53. Chapter 53: Sweet dreams

**CHAPTER 53:**

"Sweet dreams are made of these.  
Who am I to disagree?  
Travel the world and the seven seas,  
Everybody's looking for something.

Some of them want to use you;  
Some of them want to get used by you.  
Some of them want to abuse you;  
Some of them want to be abused.

I wanna use you and abuse you.  
I wanna know what's inside you."

Marilyn Manson (Sweet Dreams)

* * *

"Sorry about that," said Rixon, entering the men's toilets.

The floor was tiled red and the walls painted yellow, holding two stalls and three urinals opposite the basins, with a mirror situated above them.

Basso stood at the basin, running water from the tap and splashing it on to his shirt, scrubbing the coffee out as he went along.

"She's a right old perve," Rixon said, excusing his girlfriend's behaviour. "She can't help it."

Basso shook his head.

"Look, I feel bad about it. Please take this," he offered, handing the red shirt he'd bought earlier.

Basso eyed it quickly then shook his head. "It's all right. I've got a clean shirt in the car."

"Oh, please. I don't want to inconvenience you any further. Let me replace that one," he pointed to Basso. "It's the least I can do."

Basso thought about it for one short moment, then closed the tap and wiped his hands dry on his ruined shirt. He turned slightly away from the mirror and began unbuttoning his shirt from the top.

Rixon couldn't believe it. His plan was working, from the moment he'd spotted Basso in the store's fitting room to this very moment in the men's bathroom. It had all been planned in a second and executed in the next.

Those scars brought on a feeling of nostalgia, like seeing a childhood friend after 50 years of being apart.

But he couldn't see a single mark on the man's chest as he opened the first two buttons on his shirt. He became anxious but tried to seem un-so as he looked on inconspicuously.

Basso was down to the fifth button and all Rixon could see was a bare chest. Did his eyes see things that weren't there? Did they see things he _wished _were there?

He didn't believe it. He couldn't accept it. So he recalled the moment he _thought _ he'd seen the scars in the hope that if he could recreate the scene that he _might_ see them again.

The fitting room... curtain... mirror.

He'd seen the scars in the reflection.

He looked at the large bathroom mirror behind Basso, thinking of a way to get him to face it again. But if he did, he would give himself away. He needed Basso to think he was a good Samaritan.

Reflections. Reflective surfaces. None.

Suddenly it came to him.

Rixon pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it casually at his side, thumbing at the screen as he pretended to navigate through his phone menu. He handed the shirt to the detective just as casually, while he angled his dark phone screen just right so that he could catch Basso's reflection.

And there they were. The scars he'd seen before, but more of them; the bigger picture.

Thanks to his sharp, brilliant eyesight – due to his existence as a heavenly being – he could put the reflection to memory, all of it. Words written in an ancient language he hadn't seen since his fall from grace.

Just as Basso noticed Rixon's phone activity, Rixon pulled it to his ear to 'listen to a voicemail'. It wasn't hard to fake that because he had let the voicemails build up over time. All those contacts had called him to leave voice messages and now, finally, he found a use for them.

He turned away from Basso and walked up to the mirror as if to entertain himself while the voices nipped at his ear. In the reflection, he could see Basso finishing up and focused his eyes back on himself.

"Thanks," Basso said in his rumbling voice.

"Does it fit?" Rixon asked, as if he cared.

"Just."

"Ah, well. You're not the smallest guy in the world," Rixon joked, patting Basso's shoulder hard. He reacted with a slight smile and shook Rixon's hand. "I'll get my bird and we'll leave you to enjoy your book."

"There's no need for that," said Basso.

"No, please. She loves that shirt on me; can you imagine if she saw _you_ in it? She'd be like a bitch in heat!" Rixon laughed.

Basso gave an uncomfortable smile and held out his hand for another shake. "Thanks again. I didn't get your name."

"Patrick," said Rixon.

"Ecanus," said Basso.

"Is that Greek?" Rixon asked.

Basso paused before replying, "Yeah."

"See you around," said Rixon and left.


	54. Chapter 54: Perfect isn't easy

**A/N:** As promised, here are the next three chapters. I know you all want your Patch fix but shit is going DOWN. Could you concentrate on the story please? LOL

It's been very difficult to write in third person but I hope you enjoy getting a glimpse into the minds of the other characters.

Thank you very much to: Cherry-Chick14; candywasted; VarArSkarsgard; Sorry I Just Did; Annie Wilde; ParanormalLove; and AliKool2. Thank you for your reviews and messages supporting this story.

Off topic - Before Hush, Hush there was Twilight (and I've always been a vampire-chick before I met Patch). Who's excited for Breaking Dawn Part 1? I had a Twiathlon at home this weekend so I am uber-excited for the wedding. Dum-dum-da-dum... Who's with me? :D

* * *

**CHAPTER 54:**

"Girl we've got work to do.

Pass me the paint and glue.

Perfect isn't easy but it's me.

When one knows the world is watching,

one does what one must.

A few minor adjustments, darling,

not for my vanity, but for humanity.

...

Pretty is nice, but still,

It's just _pretty_.

Perfect my dear, is me."

Bette Midler (Perfect Isn't Easy)

* * *

Meanwhile, further inland at the mall, Marcie was occupying a seat at the salon under a mountain of curlers.

With carefully trained hands, the curlers were removed effortlessly and her strawberry blonde locks fell into loose curls past her shoulder blades. Some finger-combing here and hairspray there gave it a stylish finish.

"I love it!" she said, smiling joyously, as she turned her head left then right, watching her reflection in awe. "Déonne, you're amazing. This is why I come to you... because only _you _can keep me looking this fabulous."

Déonne, in his fashionably-torn white jeans, tight yellow top and white loafers, put his hands together and bowed slightly forward to say thanks for the compliment.

"Honey, you look so fine, even _I'd_ go for you!" he said, humorously.

She laughed, thinking she could turn any man straight, then took another look in the mirror. "How long will it hold? All night?"

"Girlfriend, you can swing from the chandeliers and do a triple summersault into a swimming pool and it ain't going to change a damn thing! Those curls are _locked!_" he said, emphatically.

There was no way her hair was getting that much action unless her boyfriend Patch was finally going to have sex with her tonight – a thought which excited her all over because she'd been thinking about it since he first showed up at school – but she liked the exaggerated guarantee anyway.

"That's what I like to hear," she responded and gave him a satisfied smile.

She picked up her handbag and gave herself one last look in the mirror thinking Patch was one lucky S.O.B. to have her for a girlfriend.

Déonne strutted up to the counter, Marcie following with her handbag hooked in the curve of her elbow as she opened her large, leather purse. She handed one of the many plastic cards inside to her favourite hairstylist, who took it from her with pleasure and swiped it through the card machine.

In exchange for her card, she gave him a twenty-dollar bill as she normally did.

"And here's your tip," she winked.

"Thank you, my dear," he smiled.

"See you, but not soon... hopefully," she said as she took a step back to prepare for her exit.

"Take care, girlfriend. And give that hunk of yours a _tush-_squeeze from me."

"I will!" she laughed, waving as she left the shop to meet her boyfriend who had just arrived outside a few minutes before.

"You done?" he asked.

"Yep. Do you like it?" she asked, excited.

"Yeah," he simply replied.

She was disappointed he wasn't a little more enthusiastic but she wasn't going to make a scene of it in public. However, she would do other things in public, like accept requests to squeeze his firm ass on behalf of other people. It was a public service.

Just as he turned his back on the salon windows, she opened her hand, spread her fingers widely, and placed it on his bottom for a generous squeeze. She quickly looked over her shoulder to Déonne and gave him a wink before looking back at her boyfriend, who looked surprised by anyone's guess, and kissed him.

No, he was not surprised. He had simply taken note of her silent conversation with her stylist. He didn't know he had been touched because he couldn't feel it.

Before he fell, he never knew the human touch. Before he found a nephil whose body he could possess and experience the human world with, he didn't care for the human touch. But after he'd spent two weeks experiencing everything as a human - every touch, every smell, every taste, every emotion – it became something he couldn't live without. It was an overwhelming experience, like 14 days of being on a constant high. And it _was_ addictive, being human.

No, he couldn't feel a thing. But with Nora, it was different.

He had learnt, from years of observation, what was pleasing to the human eye and Nora was very pleasing to his. When he was with her, in his unfeeling earthly-angel form, he imagined what her touch would feel like by remembering all the weeks he'd spent in his nephil's body.

However, without any physical feeling, he was still attracted to Nora in an esoteric way. When he was with her, he felt what could only be described as a warm vibration deep within him, like a beating drum. He didn't understand it and he couldn't explain it because it had never happened before. But when she was away from him, he missed it.


	55. Chapter 55: The modern myth

**CHAPTER 55:**

"To buy the truth and sell a lie,

The last mistake before you die.

So don't forget to breathe tonight.

Tonight's the last so say good-bye."

30 Seconds To Mars (The Modern Myth)

* * *

In the passenger seat of Patch's black jeep, Marcie sat uncomfortably as she tried to get a reaction out of him. She sat upright with her shoulders back and her chest out hoping he would notice how skinny she was today. But nothing – not even her bouncy soft curls or her flirtatious kisses – got more than a notice.

She wanted him to take her the way he had the night he first showed up at her house. He'd kissed her without permission, without a single cue from her, but now she had to practically beg for his attention. She knew that if she could bed him that he would be hooked on her, addicted to her sex. She could hold the power if only she could get him to give in to her the way all her other boyfriends did.

Why wasn't she good enough? Had her novelty worn off? Had something changed?

She asked these questions but in the back of her mind she already knew the reason for his behaviour: Nora Grey, the other woman.

She wanted to believe that Patch was over his ex but when she heard about them spending Friday night together – the same night she was having her house party – she knew she was a fool to believe it. She was furious.

From a man, she could expect that kind of behaviour, but not from someone as self-righteous as Nora. She already had her chance with Patch and now she was ruining Marcie's chance at happiness (or at least satisfaction), but she had become used to people trying to tear her life apart. It was not really much of a surprise coming from a Grey.

"Looks like my parents are still out," Marcie said, as they pulled up next to her house. "Do you want to come in?"

"For cookies and tea?" Patch asked, sarcastically. He knew exactly what she wanted to do.

She giggled flirtatiously. "Yeah, my cookies and tea," she purred, stroking her hand down his arm.

He smirked and replied, "Sounds like it'll take longer than five minutes."

"I only need four," she said into his ear.

"Can't. I've got things to do," he told her.

"What the fuck? Why won't you fuck me?" she screamed.

For once, the expression on his face could be read: surprise.

"I _know_ you're not gay because... well... are you?" she asked.

Very calmly, he answered, "No."

"Then what is it? Is it because of Nora? Can you only get your cock hard for her?"

Patch sat still, not ready to answer her question.

"Fuck you, Patch Cipriano! Go blow yourself, you fucking douche!" she yelled as she got out the car and slammed the door. "Get off my fucking street, you Nora-fucking dick!" And she stormed up the pathway to her house.

"I'll pick you up at eight," he yelled through the open window. Marcie turned around and gave him the middle finger. He tried not to laugh as he drove away.

He understood what Marcie was upset about but there was nothing he could do to put her at ease. It wasn't because he was in love with Nora that prevented him from satisfying Marcie; it was because of his rank as a guardian. Being an angel means not giving into pleasure, that's why angels don't have all the senses that humans have. To give into carnal pleasure is perhaps the greatest sin of all. Besides, we all know the product of a human-angel night of passion, and the higher-ups deplored them.

As a fallen angel he could do anything he pleased with no punishment, but since getting his wings back he's been on a tight leash. Even though guardians are meant to fit in with their human, they are in no way allowed to cross the line of sexual pleasure. Kissing was allowed, however, because no pleasure could be gained from it and it had become such a common form of human communication. Adapt or be found out.

The laws say that angels who commit an offence are cast out from the Holy Realm and become fallen. If a fallen angel should redeem himself and 'get his wings back', one offence will cast him out of the Holy Realm and into eternal damnation: Abaddon.

For this reason alone, Patch rejected Marcie's proposition. If he committed a single sin, he would be sent to hell for all eternity. And he would not take that punishment just to soothe an insecure little girl.

He didn't go far from Marcie's house after dropping her off. If she was home alone, he would have to be nearby in case she was in danger. It would have been easier to accept her invite into her home but it had become such a tedious task of continuously turning down her advances that he'd rather just wait down the block. Even though the teleporting was immediate, it took longer the further away you were from your human. Failing as a guardian was a punishable offence.

Inside, Marcie threw her handbag on the kitchen counter and slammed the front door closed. She huffed as she paced around the room before finally getting a glass of water to calm herself down.

_He_ had things to do? Well _she_ had things to do too.

She walked across the living room and opened the white sliding doors to her father's study and closed them behind her. She took a mental photograph of what the room looked like before she touched it.

Opposite the entrance was a large, wooden desk with a laptop in the centre, a filing tray on its right and a stationary bowl on its left. The large bay window filtered in plenty of light through the netted curtains.

To her left was a bookcase that ran along the entire wall up to the window, and opposite that was a blown up photo of the Richmond city skyline at night in its multicoloured lights. Richmond was where her parents met.

She made her way to the filing tray on his desk and sifted through each envelope of post. Those which were open, she read through the contents, and those which were closed she inspected the senders' details. She didn't care that it was her dad's private things. He had kept secrets from her before and she thought it was her duty to make sure he wasn't keeping any more. It was how she found out about his secret in the first place but she never told anyone, not even her mother.

She wanted to protect her mom from the hurt the secrets would cause. It was a difficult burden for Marcie to bear and she didn't want her mother to suffer the same way. Hank would always be her father, but her mother had a choice to divorce him. There were very few things that made her feel safe and her family was one of them.

When his post didn't arouse any suspicion, she logged on to his computer. He had a password but she knew what it was. She had been going through his private space for many years and he hadn't changed his password once.

She browsed through his recent items, pictures and internet history before opening his e-mail account. Her dad was a very busy man with many contacts so exploring his inbox, outbox, sent items and drafts could take an hour or more, but because she'd done this level of snooping in her father's database for many years she could be finished in less than half an hour.

Just then, her father's phone started ringing. Was he home?

She quickly logged out of his e-mail and computer, stood up from his chair and placed it in exactly the right spot before going to the study door. She put her ear to the door and listened for any movement in the house. But the phone kept ringing.

She slid open the doors and looked around before completely leaving the room in search of the phone. It was coming from the kitchen.

She searched the area, her ears guiding her. The sound got louder as she moved behind the counter until she got closer to the stove and the cellphone began to scream its ringtone. Behind the fruit bowl, she found the phone connected to its charger. She saw the caller ID and picked it up.

"Hank Miller's phone. Marcie speaking," she answered. "No, he left his phone at home but you can call him at work... Okay... Bye Bye." And she hung up.

Part of her investigative itinerary included her dad's cellphone and once in a while, he was away from his phone long enough for her to read through any incriminating text messages or call logs and delete them. Daddy made mistakes and she made sure her family wouldn't have to pay for them.

She unlocked his keypad and looked through the call log, nothing unusual there. Then she opened his text messages where she found a conversation between her father and Blythe Grey:

_See you at noon. – Blythe_

_Was good seeing you today. Was just like old times. – Hank_

_You haven't changed a bit. Still charming me into bed. – Blythe_

_Are you sure it wasn't the other way around? – Hank_

_Can't say I haven't missed you. – Blythe_

_I've missed you too. – Hank_


	56. Chapter 56: Tease me

**CHAPTER 56:**

"Tease me, tease me, tease me."

Chake Demus & Pliers (Tease Me)

* * *

It was nearing 6 o'clock and Vee still hadn't heard any confirmation from her friend about the plan for tonight's party. Everyone from school would be there and anyone that wasn't going was sure to miss out (this was the general consensus). And Vee couldn't allow her best friend to miss the end of summer party.

With a quick press of her thumb she dialled Nora's number. It rang a few times before a deep voice picked up on the other end.

"Welcome to the transvestite hotline. How can I help you, big boy?"

"Who is this?" Vee exclaimed.

"Peaches, Peaches N. Cream," the voice replied. Elliot tried his best not to laugh on the other end.

"Can I talk to Nora?" she asked, impatiently.

Vee wasn't the easiest person for him to get along with so he thought he'd make it doubly difficult for her to get what she wanted from this call.

He dropped the voice and spoke in his normal tone. "No," he answered.

"Why?"

"She's working," he said, taking a bite out of an apple.

"So why aren't you?"

"I'm on lunch, duhrrrr!" He rolled out the 'r' more than usual. "Besides, you don't need to talk to Nora anymore. You've been replaced by me."

"Get a hobby, Elliot," Vee sighed.

"I have. I've taken up a new religion. It's the Church Of Annoying Vee."

"A church dedicated to me. It's about time," she smiled approvingly.

"And now that you've become a deity we cannot be in your presence anymore."

She played along. "Fine then, since you're both my followers, tell my favourite minion that she better be at that party tonight."

"That's not fair. You can't have a favourite," he protested.

"Work hard and one day you might be my favourite," she mocked.

"Only if you make it worth my while," he teased.

Vee knew it would be worth _her _while to make him a favourite but she could never admit it. "Look, just make sure she gets to the party."

"I'll try my best," said Elliot and hung up Nora's phone, putting it back into her bag.


	57. Chapter 57: Cheers

**A/N:** Yes, yes. I know, I know. It has been like 3 months since I last updated. I have very many good reasons that include a 6-week holiday, writer's block, work and DIY-ing in my flat. But I am pleased to announce that I have a bunch of chapters ready to publish however I will be doing them one at a time. I am 95% done with the story. A few more chapters and I'll be ready to publish everything. I have been writing like a demon these last few weeks. So I promise I will have one chapter a week for you guys.

Speaking of which, I have to thank each and every single one of you for reading, messaging me and keeping me motivated. Thanks for the support: AliKool2; candywasted; ParanormalLove; VarArSkarsgard; ladylala4ever; xchocolate lovrx; Miss Jessica Cullen; chocolate-eyed-girl; Midnite17XP; SammiRichGurl; fabmickey; Banana Luvs Myths; HannahLVTS; mofudge6924; Lala Elizabeth Collins; ShauneeCole; 8Three Days Grace8; lab123; Takeiteasycharlie; Kimbo0627; CuzTheBestThingsRImpossible (who has a zillion different aliases); IWishIWasNora; THANKYOU; and untitled.

* * *

**CHAPTER 57:**

"Cheers to the freakin' weekend!

I'll drink to that!"

Rihanna (Cheers)

* * *

Saturday night approached as the sun set on the small town of Coldwater.

Cars lined the street leading up to Chanel's house, which seemed like a beacon of light in the quiet neighbourhood (quiet if you were five houses away). Music blared from every window and her house glowed with multi-coloured lights inside, outside and all around.

"Wow!" Vee smiled excitedly as she and Rixon approached the house from the sidewalk. She squeezed his hand and trotted up the pathway to the front door in her white wedge heels. Rixon wore the green shirt she'd bought for him earlier that day since donating the red one to Detective Basso.

Rixon wasn't particularly up for a party full of teenagers but he'd worked his way into their circle for a reason.

The front entrance to the house lead to a massive living room with a big screen TV which was being occupied by several boys watching a game on ESPN as they lounged in the U-shaped sofa.

Adjacent to the living room was a large kitchen and dining room. A number of students were fixing drinks with the help of one cocky guy who tossed bottles in the air thanks to the training as his parents' personal bartender.

Beyond the living room and kitchen was the rear entrance to the porch where a sound system was set up. A DJ spun the turntables on his computer programme as he bopped his head to the latest house and hip-hop tunes while his audience jived in the garden below.

Crowds of people littered the garden area forming conversation groups, bombing in the pool or playing table-tennis with their drinks nearby.

At one corner of the porch sat Marcie, Liz and Bernadette sipping on colourful umbrella drinks, making remarks about every guest that came through the back door.

"Is she really wearing that?" Marcie blinked twice in the direction of one red-head in a black floral top and denim shorts.

"Who?" Bernadette asked, indulging the behaviour. Marcie pointed subtly then looked away so that it wouldn't appear as if they were all staring. Bernadette laughed, not really sure what was wrong because the girl in question had gorgeous legs.

"She looks like a vampire in that top. Doesn't she know that black washes her out?" Marcie added while her two friends laughed.

Liz joined in when a new girl came out the door in a tiny yellow bikini and walked up to the DJ. "Ugh! That bikini is so skanky!"

"Liz! That's Chanel! It's her party, you idiot! You better hope she didn't hear you," Marcie scolded, making her friend shrink in her chair. "Chanel!" Marcie called across the porch.

The tanned, slender host turned around, causing her long sandy-brown hair to twirl in similar motion, and approached Marcie.

"I love your bikini. You look so hot in it," Marcie sucked up to the senior.

"Thanks," she said, giving a pose. "Are you having a good time?"

"The best," Marcie spoke on behalf of her group.

"We're scouting all the hot boys," Bernadette added.

"I know. Who knew we had so many hot guys at school?' Chanel replied. "Speaking of... Marcie, where's your man?"

Marcie cringed inside. She was avoiding Patch as his punishment for rejecting her _again_. She was going to seriously look at their relationship and decide if there was a future with a man who didn't want to sleep with her. If he wasn't getting it from her he was getting it from somewhere else, she thought.

But nobody needed to know the internal drama of her relationship with the hottest boy in Coldwater. Girls were jealous of her and she owned that power. He was a trophy she loved to keep shiny and on display.

"He's playing foosball in the den," Marcie answered.

"If it were me I'd be all over him!" Chanel said. "He's so hot!"

"I know, right? How lucky am I? But he's so great. You know how most guys can be clingy but he gives me space. We have such a steamy relationship but we keep that private. He's not into PDA."

Everyone nodded in acceptance.

"Then I dare you to go up to him now and plant one on him," Chanel challenged her.

"Shame, you guys. He's not going to like that," Marcie declined, covering up her fear of possible repeated rejection from Patch.

Immediately, Chanel responded, "Shame? Look at you! You are America's Next Top Model! It's like throwing a bloody steak in front of a lion. He is _not _going to mind one bit."

Liz and Bernadette encouraged Marcie to accept the dare until she finally sucked up some courage and stood up. All three cheered in unison at her acceptance of the challenge.

"We're following you," Chanel told her and lead all the girls to the den which was situated between the stairs and bathroom.

The Tuscan-style room, with its terracotta walls and brown-stone floor, had plenty of wooden seating yet everyone stood around the main attraction that was the foosball table being played by four boys with vicious shoves and tense smiles.

As they stepped closer, Marcie noticed Patch standing at the archway entrance with his back toward them as he took a sip of beer, waiting his turn.

Marcie had always been so sure of herself when it came to boys. It was simple: _boys love Marcie_. She had never been rejected by a boy until Patch came along. She was walking on eggshells around him, never knowing if he actually liked her or if he was just using her as a trophy the way she way using him.

She didn't mind that though. She knew she was one hell of a catch! Why wouldn't he want to show her off? The only problem was, she never knew _when_. She hoped that he wouldn't turn her down in front of all those people, especially a senior as popular as Chanel who could help her reach the top tier of popularity.

As she took a step toward Patch, she hoped he would play along and forget that they'd had a fight a few hours earlier. He'd been distant lately so she knew their relationship was on the rocks but nobody needed to know that. If being a Millar had taught her anything it was that dirty laundry stays at home, behind closed doors.

She stood in front of him and ran her hand up his chest and around his neck to link up with her other hand.

"Hey," she smiled, trying to read his body language. When she felt his arms loop around her hips she smiled wider. "Is that a beer bottle or are you just happy to see me?"

He could've pulled the bottle up to show her and drown her efforts but he could foresee the consequences: Marcie would slap him across the face, insult him, break up with him and hook up with another boy at the party. All of which Patch didn't mind.

But he only had one strike left against his name. He had to remain Marcie's guardian until she released him or the higher-ups assigned him to someone else. If Marcie died because of his failure as a guardian, that would be his ticket to hell.

There was a reason demons escaped the torture depths of Abaddon, and Patch had heard enough stories to understand why. It was HELL, pun intended!

That fear kept Patch in line. He was not going to screw up his guardian duty. He wouldn't want to take the chance of not being around to protect Marcie, with or without his teleporting abilities. And if that meant tolerating a horny and insecure 16-year-old, he'd suffer it. But an eternity in hell, never. Especially since that meant being without Nora.

So he smiled at the girl with her arms around his neck and pretended that her flirting had an effect on him, then closed his eyes when her lips touched his. She pressed her body against his and parted her lips for a more passionate embrace.


	58. Chapter 58: Closer

**A/N:** Sorry I left you on a bit of a cliffhanger. Hope this is enough Patch for you.

Thanks to: Takeiteasycharlie; AreYouFrickingSerious; kayai1995; candywasted; Rockerchick09; VarArSkarsgard; ; and freakgirl1986 for your fanship.

* * *

**CHAPTER 58:**

"Help me! I broke apart my insides.

Help me! I've got no soul to sell.

Help me! The only thing that works for me,

Help me get away from myself.

I want to fuck you like an animal.

I want to feel you from the inside.

I want to fuck you like an animal.

My whole existence is flawed.

You get me closer to God."

Nine Inch Nails (Closer)

* * *

Seconds later, Marcie ended their steamy kiss and bit her lip as she eyed Patch appreciatively then gave her female peers a smile. She took his hand and lead him out of the room, high-fiving Chanel as she passed her, to a vacant sofa in a secluded corner of the living room, to have some privacy from the jocks.

She took his beer and pushed him on to the furthest side of the couch then downed the rest of his drink in a dominating fashion. She'd had quite a few drinks by now and she felt more frisky than usual. She sat in his lap, facing him, and pulled his mouth to hers gripping her fingers in his hair. She wanted more of him and she wouldn't stop until she did.

If her guess was right, which it probably was, Nora was either still a virgin or Elliot solved that problem for her. Either way, Nora hadn't bedded Patch yet and in Marcie's mind, that was the opportunity for revenge. She would have sex with Nora's ex to even the score... and possibly crush her opponent.

Once she'd have her way with him, she'd break up with him so that if he ever went back to Nora and they were in the throes of passion, Nora would see Marcie's flag and be haunted by the fact that she had had him first. _How does it feel, Nora, to have the _love_ you have for someone tainted by someone else's _lust_?_

Marcie had hoped her relationship with Patch would have lasted a few more months before she moved on. She didn't believe any man could be faithful if not even her own father could. The first six months of a relationship are meant to be the happiest, thereafter everything falls apart. That was how it worked. Why couldn't Patch give her just six months of happiness? Or five or four? They didn't even have to be happy ones, mildly entertaining would do. Anything would do! Anything to keep her mind off the burden of keeping her father's secret and the hurt it had caused her. She couldn't look at her father with the same eyes since finding out about his affair. She thought he ended it. _How could he do this to us again?_

Feeling that hurt ascend through her body, she sought comfort in the affections she was receiving from the boy she was straddling. She pulled herself closer to him, closing the distance between their bodies as she probed her tongue deeper into his mouth.

Patch had had his eyes closed for a few minutes, unaware of what had been going on since he'd first shut them. Being unfeeling had its disadvantages, especially when his eyes and ears were his only way of navigating the human world.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Marcie sucked to his face. Their bodies were separated only by clothing as she held one of his hands to her breast and found her other hand under his shirt and moving toward his waist line.

He pulled away from her kiss, removing _his_ hand from her breast and _her_ hand from his crotch.

"Let's not do this here," he told her softly, knowing it was his fault for letting it get that far.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" she suggested, taking his wrists.

He walked right into that one. He tried to seem amused instead of upset as he sighed and answered, "No."

She dug her nails into his wrists; not a wince escaped him. He wasn't feeling _her_ and he wasn't feeling her nails pierce his skin. She wondered if he felt_ anything_ at all. Just then she wanted to punch him just to see if he'd cry.

She gave him a moment to elaborate on his refusal but when he didn't, she asked him, "Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong? Am I not sexy?"

Patch knew where his loyalties lied (with Nora) but to say that Marcie was unattractive would be a lie. Angels have a strong sense of empathy which allows them to interact with humans more naturally. Angels might only use two of the human senses (sight and sound) but they have an acute mental sense which allows them to do many advanced things like project thoughts into human minds and communicate with other angels mentally.

And for this situation, Patch needed his empathetic powers more than ever. He imagined how an insecure 16-year-old girl who regarded sexual intercourse as the sole human connection and sailed on a boat of vanity might feel after being rejected multiple times. He wasn't there to play her psychiatrist. He was there to protect her by remaining close to her. To do that, he'd have to tread carefully on her superficial feelings.

"You are," he told her, emphatically. "But it's not you, it's me."

She rolled her eyes at the cliché.

"I'm not in a good space right now," he explained. "Things at home are difficult." That wasn't far from the truth.

She understood how home troubles could take a toll on a person but she usually indulged in taunting her peers. It was like passing on the pain, and it made her feel better. She thought maybe this could be their way of bonding.

She asked him, "Like what?"

He sighed with genuine melancholy. "I don't want to talk about it," he said, throwing his head back in exhaustion. And before he could walk into an argument about their lack of communication, he took her arms and said with great sincerity, "I don't want to fight anymore. I need you to be there for me." He hoped she'd have an ounce of sympathy to stop pressuring him.

She nodded then added softly with a mischievous smile, "You know what always makes me feel better?"

Nope. No sympathy.

"You're being clingy, Marcie. It's a real turn off. Let's just chill and enjoy the party."

With that she hopped off his lap and into the seat furthest from him, crossing her arms and pouting. She wasn't going to fight with him, just as he asked, she was going to ignore him.

To keep from laughing at her immature behaviour, he focused on the art-nouveau clock above the large television. It was nearly 10pm and he was expected elsewhere. He needed half an hour to pick Nora up and drop her off at home. He was going to 'buy more alcohol'. That would give him some time.

He stood up and told his pouty-mouthed girlfriend, "I'm going to get us some more drinks."

"Yeah, go," she mumbled, diverting her gaze from him.

* * *

**A/N:** It was hard to write Marcie's making-out with Patch but then I put myself in her shoes and it was even harder to hold back! hahahaha!


	59. Chapter 59: Rotten apple

**A/N:** It's that time again! Thanks to: WhatLiesWithin23; VarArSkarsgard; Takeiteasycharlie; AreYouFrickingSerious; and SammiRichGurl for reading and reviewing. Two chapters are up this week because the first one is very short. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**CHAPTER 59:**

"Innocence is over

Ignorance is spoken

Confidence is broken

Sustenance is stolen

Arrogance is potent

...

I repent tomorrow

I suspend my sorrow

...

A romance is fallen

Recommend you borrow

What I see is unreal

I've written my own part

Eat of the apple, so young

I'm crawling back to start."

Alice in Chains (Rotten Apple)

* * *

_Ecanus waited, hovering in a corner of the Holy Realm, for an ally to cross its path. It needed another angel to keep its secret._

_Sensing another entity, it thought, "Jamaerah. Meet with me?"_

_Ecanus intuited Jamaerah's affinity for manifesting others' desires. Jamaerah was the Angel of Manifestation after all; not only for humans but for angels too. And Ecanus had a desire it needed to manifest urgently, quietly, secretly._

_Jamaerah responded, changing its path to follow the other angel. "Ecanus. Speak," his thoughts responded._

_The two white, translucent entities hovered close together while their thoughts remained open to each other. There could be no lies if their minds were open books – an enviable concept for most humans, but for Ecanus it was a problem._

_Ecanus thought out, "Favour."_

_Jamaerah accepted the request._

"_Memory block."_

"_Why?" Jamaerah questioned._

"_Experiment," Ecanus imagined._

_Jamaerah searched the energy of Ecanus's thoughts and pulled out secondary emotions. "Need... Help."_

_Ecanus's mind glowed with positivity, confirming Jamaerah's statement, which made Jamaerah react with equal positivity – a sign of being on the same page._

_Ecanus thought only of its ally's mission, making sure it did not let its agenda cross its mind for fear of being found out. What Ecanus was planning was beyond any betrayal imaginable._

_Ecanus thought out the assignment for Jamaerah: "Wait here... I leave... I come back... Make me forget."_


	60. Chapter 60: When angels & serpents dance

**CHAPTER 60:**

"Life's real when angels and serpents dance.

Twistedly slipping

Radiant soaring

Winding, maliciously creeping

Flowing

Righteous, moral and just.

Deceitful, the creature is crawling

The guardian's flying, the dance is breathing

Who's leading?

...

Who's leading you?

Everything you say?

Everything that you do?

Believing what is true?

One must lead in the dance,

Who's leading you?"

POD (When Angels And Serpents Dance)

* * *

_A fist flew across the table, colliding with a jaw._

_The two men stood up quickly, pushing their chairs out behind them. The man who threw the punch, ran around the table and tackled his rival who stumbled backwards as he absorbed the force._

_The crowd inside the bar immediately scrambled around the fight, directing it through the wide wooden doors of_ El Ray's Bar_._

_The second man, after getting his footing right, pushed the charging man away from his body and quickly took to guarding his torso with steadily clenched fists_

_Once the first man gathered himself, he carefully plotted his steps closer to his opponent before attempting a punch to his left cheek but missing when his rival shifted swiftly to the side and delivered a blow to his stomach. He tightened his muscles as if it could keep the pain from escaping his mouth. And then a second punch followed, hitting the right side of his ribcage, and he heard something _crack.

_Too distracted, he was hit in the jaw by a third consecutive punch. That's when the crowd finally stepped in to save the beaten man from any further injury at the hands of his adversary._

_One waitress brought a plastic bag filled with ice to aid the fallen fighter while an older gentleman stepped out of the gathered crowd to approach the fighter still standing._

"_Geez, Rixon. Did you have to hurt the poor kid?" the gentleman, in his red jumper and khakis, remarked._

_Rixon fixed his green shirt and licked the blood from his lip. "He did not know who he was fucking with."_

_The man sighed, pocketing his hands. "Well, he's been warned_ now_."_

"_Ay, Jack! And he should know the rules when he plays in your house too. Consider this a favour," he offered._

_Jack shook his head. "No, thanks. I wouldn't want to owe _you_ any favours."_

_Rixon laughed, not offended in the least. "Oh, come on, Jack!"_

"_How about I repay the favour now? Get out of here before the cops show up or the kid decides to sue you."_

"_I'm already gone," said Rixon, walking away, making sure to get out of the area before any authorities showed up. After all, he had to keep a low profile._

_But there was nothing wrong in keeping a few _newbies_ in line with a little fear. They had to be put in their place, according to Rixon. If they wanted to play with the big boys they had to know how to roll with the punches – literally and figuratively – like losing large sums of money on a bad night._

_And that's exactly what happened this time. The man had lost ten grand in just an hour thanks to Rixon who'd let him win a few hands of poker to sweeten him up for his final bet: all-in on a pair of aces. But the cunning Irishman flushed him out with a full house. And that's when Rixon was socked in the jaw by the first punch._

_He couldn't feel it but he saw his face swelling in the rear-view mirror of his car as he drove away from town with the cash in his pocket. He poked at the bruise, always curious about its development, and he couldn't help but think how he would love to see the other guy's face._

_This was one of the many reasons Rixon was glad he _wasn't _human. He didn't have to feel pain, he didn't have to feel anything – not even guilt. The world was his oyster and he loved fishing for pearls._

_Rixon didn't understand why any immortal would want to be human. As a fallen angel he could spend eternity doing what he pleased, obeying no laws except his own. He was stronger, faster and smarter than humans. He had acute eyesight and hearing, mind abilities and, most importantly, could live forever. Immortality, the desire of every human being because they feared death. Who would want to give that up?_

_Not Rixon. He had it all and yet something stirred inside him that _wanted_ to become human. Not to experience the world with all the human senses – that was inconsequential for a supreme being like himself. He didn't want to be human for the sake of being _human_. He wanted to be human so that he could become a _legend_: the angel that proved the legend was real. Immortality in the minds of all Holy beings. His story would live on, long after his human life would end._

_But he put the dream to bed immediately. He wasn't sure he wanted his perfect existence to end yet especially when he'd had a glimpse of how frail the human body was after one blow to the face. He poked at the swollen side of his mouth and shook his head in disappointment. Maybe once his appearance got back to normal he would attempt to become the Legend._

_He had all the ingredients for the procedure: his nephil – Barnabus Underwood now living under the guise of _Hank Millar_ – and his nephil's female descendant – his daughter, Marcie. Sacrificing the descendant would kill his nephil and grant him human life. Simple._

_Of course, this was just a rumour. No angel was actually certain that it could be done but it was still talked about, albeit frowned upon. The idea that angels could completely transform into another being in its entirety was remarkable. All the angels knew of their ability to take any form necessary to deliver messages in the human world – animal or human appearances – but to become _whole_ as that being and not just a dummy version of it was miraculous._

_Rixon stopped at a red light and took in his surroundings. While he waited for the light to change to green he noticed a glow amongst a thick forest of trees a quarter mile away. It looked much like the lights emitted from a sports stadium at night but he knew there was no such construction in the small town of Coldwater. He wondered if it could be something more worthwhile than stadium lights._

_He changed course and followed the road to get as close as he could to the lit region. He parked his car off the road next to the forested area and ran the rest of the way through the growth of trees and bushes until he found the light source._

_He ducked, creeping closer as the light dissolved and enclosed itself within two human forms. One, a tall grey-eyed man with a strong, square jaw and a medium tan in a dove blue shirt, dark-grey tailored suit and equally smart black shoes. The other, a younger man with dark skin, black hair, black eyes and a black t-shirt and jeans stood opposite the older man._

_Rixon knew the boy – his oldest friend in the world who he'd nicknamed Patch – but could only guess the identity of the man. No, not a man. Angelic, obviously, but which rank?_

"_Jev," said the man in his deep timbre voice. "Upon successfully completing your previous task, you have now been reassigned."_

_The young man stood firmly, silently acknowledging his superior's orders._

_In a steady tone, he continued, "Your mark is one Marcie Millar. She knows you as Patch Cipriano, the new student at Coldwater High. Here." He handed over a folded paper to the boy who studied it promptly._

"_Any questions?"asked the older man._

_An unimpressed Patch asked, "Do I _have to_ attend school?"_

"_You must do anything and everything to guard her life, but remember the three rules: do not get emotionally involved, do not sleep with them and do not kill them." And then a new gravitas entered his tone. "You may have gained your wings back but that does not mean you get to keep them. One offence will be your passport to hell._

"_I do not relish in the act of sentencing one of my own kind but I will uphold our righteous laws for the good of us all. And for one who's already fallen, you will be watched closely."_

_Patch brushed off the warning, not sure where his superior's disdain came from. "Got it. One more question?"_

_The grey suit man nodded._

"_Do we have any idea why she needs protecting?"_

_The older man lifted his chin slightly and replied, "Her father is a first generation nephilim. Trouble always follows their kind."_

"_Mm," Patch agreed._

_After a thoughtful pause the superior said, "All I know is that she's at the top of the list; we can't be sure of why. Only Dabria can tell us how she'll die, but since she's gone AWOL we haven't found her replacement yet. We're hoping she'll return to us soon." The man watched Patch's face warily._

_Patch responded casually, "Okay. I'll do it manually then. Suspect everyone. Protect her from everything."_

_The suited man nodded. "Dismissed." Those were his last words before he started glowing, then hovering, then disappearing in the air as fast as a camera flash._

_Patch folded the paper he'd received into his front pocket as he began walking away from the meeting point, finally disappearing into the depths of the trees._

_That night, Rixon followed his friend by foot from that spot to the Millar residence where he stood outside his mark's window and watched her, observing her habits in the space of a few minutes, finding that the best way to get close to her was to indulge her vanity._

_He knocked on her door, dropped a few compliments and, after noticing her peacock-like stance, kissed her. And then he was invited into her home._

_The last time Rixon checked, Patch was on the brink of falling in love with his previous human mark Nora. He was so infatuated with her that he was willing to give up his opportunity to get a human body for her._

_And tonight Rixon witnessed the same person plant his lips on his new mark. _Ah, Patch. You clever little bastard, you. Keeping the higher-ups happy while dipping your toe in every girl's pool.

_The Patch that Rixon knew all these years was completely capable of taking what he wanted; the selfish Patch that could happily move on from one woman to another._

_But the Patch that had given up the one thing he desired most to save one human girl was not the same Patch that Rixon had known for most of his fallen existence. _That _Patch held a torch for Nora and _that_ Patch wouldn't easily move on to someone else. At least not immediately._

_As Rixon waited for his friend to leave the Millar house, he decided he'd wait to kill Marcie. Patch wouldn't just _allow_ Rixon to sacrifice his mark no matter how close Patch and Rixon might be. Rixon had an eternity ahead of him. There was no rush. He could wait until Patch was reassigned again._

_An hour later at 11:15pm, Patch came out the front door scanning the area before he started his walk away from the house. Rixon wanted to continue following Patch but this walking nonsense was not going to fly by him. So Rixon decided to make his way back to his car and track Patch from the Millar house._

_Four blocks away zigzagging from Marcie's house, Rixon found Patch roaming the sidewalks of the evenly lit upper-class suburban street._

_Rixon drove his car at an even pace with Patch and waved out of the open window, saying, "Hi."_

_Patch looked at Rixon curiously, returned the greeting without much enthusiasm and kept on walking._

"_Do you need a ride?"_

"_You can carry on driving. I'm not looking to get killed tonight," said Patch._

_Rixon chuckled. "Come on, lad. I'll take you to Bo's for a drink."_

"_Sorry, I don't do men anymore," replied Patch, unengaged._

_Rixon laughed. "Come on."_

_With that, Patch walked towards the car and clutched the door with his hand. "Get lost or I'll make you disappear."_

_Rixon was shocked by his friend's behaviour. He put his foot on the accelerator and sped off as quickly as possible._

_Rixon wasn't afraid of Patch. He could take him on in a fight. Well, Patch would have more power being higher up on the angel hierarchy than Rixon was._

_Rixon was confused by Patch, acting like he didn't want to be associated with Rixon. Keeping his distance and then threatening to end Rixon's existence. It was like he didn't even know what Rixon was._

_Patch had no problem throwing himself at Marcie and no problem threatening Rixon. It was like a new Patch was born. A Patch who didn't know that Nora would be upset if he kissed her arch-enemy; a Patch that didn't know that Rixon was his best friend and a fallen angel. It was like he'd forgotten his life before his reassigning._

_And then Rixon remembered a time when he was still in the Holy Realm, when archangels had the power to block other angels' memories. It was a procedure that was only performed in extreme circumstances. No matter what memory was blocked, the angel could still function in their angel role. It was like their operating system was still running but their hard drive had been tampered with._

_Rixon considered the idea that part of Patch's memory had been blocked (which part he wasn't sure) but after following Patch for a week after that night, Rixon was certain that Patch didn't remember anyone he used to know before – including Rixon._

_And Rixon decided to use this to his advantage. If Patch didn't know who Rixon was, especially the bits about him being a fallen angel and Marcie's father being his nephil, then he could easily pass under Patch's radar undetected and kill Marcie when the time was right. Granted, it would be more of a challenge since Patch had the benefit of teleporting to her rescue, but that would just make the victory so much sweeter._

_Who needs friends if they don't even remember you?_


	61. Chapter 61: Smoke and mirrors

**A/N: ** I saw a real life Patch! Yeah, totally! No, I didn't jump his bones but I did follow him (well, we just happened to be walking in the same direction)... Don't judge me! Haha! I was walking through the park and he manged to pass me and then I noticed his black leather jacket, dark jeans, black sneakers and even a baseball cap! It was pretty exciting. *rocking back and forth on heels realising I'm the only one that thought it was exciting*

So anyway... thanks to my loyal readers - even those that don't comment or add me to their alerts, you are greatly loved but unfortunately I can't thank those that don't make themselves known; like these ones: Takeiteasycharlie; SammiRichGurl; ; VarArSkarsgard; and LittleMissSparkie2012.

Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 61:**

"You're a fraud and you know it,  
But it's too good to throw it all away.  
Anyone would do the same.  
You've got 'em going,  
And you're careful not to show it.  
Sometimes you even fool yourself a bit.  
It's like magic,  
But it's always been a smoke and mirrors game."

Gotye (Smoke and Mirrors)

* * *

_A human woman may pass on her human life to one of the Holy Realm only if she is a descendent of Nephilim. She must will herself to die and be given death by her chosen being. Death will replace life; mortality will replace immortality._

The message had been repeating in Rixon's mind ever since he saw it carved in Ecanus Basso's chest. The scars that had only appeared in reflection were a miracle of the Holy Realm. And if the message came from the Holy Realm then the myth in the Book of Enoch must be true. It was like a sign from the universe that Rixon was meant to perform the ritual tonight.

Rixon eyed his sacrifice from the next room - alone and vulnerable, no guardian in sight. He moved through the crowded party and strolled right up to her.

"Why's a pretty lass like you sitting all on her own?" he asked charmingly, taking a seat beside Marcie.

She didn't pay him much attention because she'd only met him once through Liz, and quite frankly, she wasn't in the mood to be flirted with.

"Is everything okay?" he asked to be polite.

She sighed. "Yeah." She didn't want to disclose any personal information to him, but he took the response literally.

"Good. Where's Patch?"

"Getting us drinks," she replied with her arms still folded across her chest.

Disappointed by the piece of information he'd just heard, Rixon allowed his plan to be delayed yet again. If Patch was nearby, Rixon really had no time to perform the ritual. She'd be saved too quickly by her guardian. Maybe if he could convince her to follow him away from the party to a very far and secluded place, he would have enough time to get the ritual over and done with before Patch could show up and stop him.

He sent a thought of trust to her mind, hoping it would speed up the process. He didn't have time to bond with her and build up trust so he had to make it happen with his gift. Man, he was going to miss that gift when he turned human.

He started a conversation, aiming to pander to her vanity. "I heard you won a mean fight at school recently."

A sly smile escaped her.

"You took on two girls at the same time?" he added, sounding impressed. She sat up straighter, boastfully. "I heard Nora was one of them," he stated in a congratulatory tone.

Marcie turned her head slowly towards him and her smile grew wider, raising an eyebrow as if to say _it wasn't my fault_.

Then, a little amused, Rixon chuckled. "Why are you two always fighting? Nora seems harmless. I can't imagine her even offending anyone. She must really get under your skin."

Marcie rolled her eyes, sick and tired of people thinking Nora was so goddamn innocent. She turned her entire body to face Rixon and, with pointed finger, told him, "_Why _must everyone defend her? Nora is a fucking whore! And so is her fucking mother! Just because her husband died it doesn't give her the right to run around with other people's husbands!" And she stopped herself before she revealed anything more.

Rixon backed up off the couch, his hands raised in surrender as he retreated with caution from Marcie's volatile rage. She was in no mood to _bond_ with anyone tonight. "Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll go," he said.

Rixon disappeared from the room as quickly as humanly possible and navigated through the party in search of his girlfriend.

From the living room, to the kitchen where seniors were playing drinking games, through a short passage that led to the den, Rixon searched. Up the stairs and down the stairs, every room of the house was occupied to the max. But where he found his green-eyed girl was in the garden with a boy her own age. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed _boy_. The boy from the beach. Nora's boy.

"What?" Vee exclaimed.

"Yeah! He dropped the card machine and thought he broke it so he gave me a twenty-five-dollar tip... and his bill was only, like, fifty bucks!" Elliot told her.

"That's insane. Now you know how to milk your customers," she winked.

"No," he sang. "Not everyone is that generous. They'd probably say _tough shit_."

"Eh," she shrugged, then had an idea. "What if that guy was using a stolen credit card and _that_ was why he was being so _generous_ with his money. The easiest money to spend is someone else's."

Elliot laughed. "It doesn't matter to me. At the end of the day, I made my money. Enzo's can deal with it."

Just then, Rixon took his spot next to Vee and shook Elliot's hand firmly, mumbling a greeting. "Where's your friend, love?" Rixon asked before kissing Vee's temple.

"Yeah, Elliot. Where's my friend?" asked Vee.

Elliot knew he couldn't tell anyone about Patch and Nora's arrangement but he knew she was on her way home with him. Without betraying his friend, he answered, "She's home."

"Is she coming to the party?" she asked, weaving her fingers into Rixon's as his hand hung over her shoulder.

"I'm not sure. She was undecided the last time we spoke. Maybe she's gone home to change. Unlike me, I came straight here."

"Is that what I'm smelling?" she asked, pulling a sour face.

Elliot planted his open hand over Vee's face to shut her up, and held it there as he took a sip from his plastic cup. She shrieked, struggling at first to remove his hand from her face. She laughed in embarrassment then punched his shoulder with much effort.

She turned her back on Elliot, asking Rixon, "Can we go pick Nora up?"

Rixon, being three inches taller than his girlfriend, looked down at her and kissed her forehead. "How about you stay here, enjoy the party, and I'll pick her up?"

"That's nice of you," she smiled. "Are you sure you want to go alone?" She fluttered her eyelashes, flirtatiously.

He smiled. "Yes. Because you are very distracting and I need to keep my eyes on the road."

She giggled then kissed him goodbye.


	62. Chapter 62: I write sins, not tragedies

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming. Thanks for the fanship: VarArSkarsgard; Takeiteasycharlie; SammiRichGurl; and candywasted.

Enjoy the next two chapters!

* * *

**CHAPTER 62:**

"Oh, well imagine,

As I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor,

And I can't help but to hear,  
No, I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words:  
'What a beautiful wedding! What a beautiful wedding!' says a bridesmaid to a waiter.  
'And yes, but what a shame, what a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore'."

Panic! At The Disco (I Write Sins, Not Tragedies)

* * *

Rixon left the party relieved. He never wanted to come to the party in the first place and he was glad to get a break from the immature high schoolers.

Alternative rock tunes banged from the speakers as he made the trip to Nora's house in his black 1969 Camero SS. The lyrics floated past him unconsciously until one word was isolated before a dramatic pause: 'WHORE'.

It made him think of Marcie's furious rant over Nora and her 'whore' mother. Although Rixon knew Nora a tiny bit he knew it was normal for humans to desire more than what they had. Adultery was such a common activity among humans that he didn't doubt Marcie's accusation at all.

Chances were, Mrs Grey really needed some companionship and found someone to cure her loneliness. A married man perhaps? But why would it matter to little Marcie who that married man was? Unless it was someone she knew... An uncle maybe? Whose husband is the only one she would care about?

Her mother's husband.

Rixon suddenly couldn't abandon the idea. Barnabus Underwood and Nora's mother having an affair?

They're having sex! The thought screamed in his mind.

_How_ could this kind of behaviour go undetected by Rixon? It was his business to know the depths of his nephil's history. The affair must have been a new one. And Rixon would make sure to cash in on it. He'd restructure his plan. He wouldn't kill Marcie. He'd wait for Barnabus to produce another offspring and kill _her_.


	63. Chapter 63: Devil takes care of his own

**CHAPTER 63:**

"The devil takes care of his own."

Band of Skulls (Devil Takes Care Of His Own)

* * *

Rixon pulled into Nora's driveway and knocked on the door. The lounge curtain was pulled aside and a women peered through the window, meeting Rixon's gaze. He smiled and gave a polite wave. A few seconds later, the door opened slightly with the chain still in the hook.

"Hello?" said Blythe.

"Hi, Mrs Grey. Is Nora home? I'm a friend of hers," he said, respectfully.

Blythe looked him up and down carefully, scanning his face for signs of deception. He wasn't coming inside as far as she was concerned. She knew it wasn't right to judge him on his appearance, after all, he was a young man and he would learn to polish up.

"Nora's working late tonight," she replied.

"All right, ma'am. I'll just call her later, or tomorrow," said Rixon, knowing the woman was uneasy about his presence and his interest in her daughter.

"That's probably best. Good night," she smiled and closed the door softly.

Rixon trotted down the porch steps and climbed into his car. He parked down the street from the house and snuck into the yard. First he'd have to check that the coast was clear, that Nora really wasn't home. The lights on the ground floor were lit – Mrs Grey was watching TV in the living room - but it was completely dark upstairs.

He scaled the tree outside Nora's bedroom window, made sure the room was void of any human presence then nimbly climbed in.

While he waited for Nora to return from work, he'd do a little snooping. He had a hunch and his plan was to find proof. Birth control, pictures, sexy lingerie, text messages, e-mails. He had to be certain that Mrs Grey was the woman that Barnabus was sleeping with. He had to be certain because if he was right, he'd have to wait 16 years till the girl would be of age and ready for the sacrifice.

The upstairs area was clear and he began searching through Nora's mother's room. He quietly went through every draw and every cupboard, searching for proof of an affair. He found lacy red lingerie in the back of her top drawer, and began ticking off the list.

In a secret pocket inside her black handbag, he found a pair of condoms. _Always keeping a back-up, Mrs Grey. Very responsible of you._ And he nicked them from her bag. He didn't want to prevent a pregnancy; he hoped for one.

Her cellphone sat on the bedside table in the corner. Rixon rushed for it, knowing it would be a treasure chest of secrets. He unlocked the keypad and scrolled through her messages. Not a single one from _Hank Millar_. He scrolled through her phonebook to check if she even had _Hank Millar_ as a contact or whether she craftily renamed _Hank_ to something else.

He trawled through every name and only found one number for _Hank Millar_. It was a mobile number.

He ran through the call log and found Hank's number had been dialled three times in the last week, for an average of thirty minutes each time. He checked the home phone that stood in its cradle on the same table, investigating how many times _Hank Millar_ was called from the landline.

None.

He was not a family friend that she could call from the house phone. _Hank Millar_ was Mrs Grey's dirty little secret.

Perhaps her e-mails would be more revealing, he thought.

He snuck across the hall into the study where the laptop lay flat on the table and seated himself in the chair in front of it. He opened the lid, switched on the computer and pushed the mute button before it had loaded the desktop. He couldn't take the chance of a start-up tune blowing his cover.

Once the screen had loaded, he opened up her e-mail, no password required. This was her personal computer, obviously.

Again, Rixon sifted through her messages until he happened upon one e-mail trail between Blythe Grey and Hank Millar.

_Dear Hank,_

_I received the papers in the post. Thank you._

_Regards,_

_Blythe_

To which Hank replied:

_I always take care of my own._

Rixon immediately sifted through the papers inside and on top of the table. After several minutes, he found a formal set of pages kept together by a silver paperclip in the right-hand corner.

A short breath escaped him as he realised the value of the information he was holding.

Just then, a hundred yards from the Grey's farmhouse, under the cover of night and trees, a black sedan with its headlights off stopped across the street.

In his usual black slacks, white button-down and worn leather gun holsters, detective Ecanus Basso watched the farmhouse. The orders echoed in his head: _Follow her night and day_.


	64. Chapter 64: She's not there

**A/N:** So yesterday, after writing a bit more, I had a talk with my Beta reader and it turns out I may be, like, 20 chapters from finishing! LOL! Well, I'll try my best to compress it but it's quite exciting. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to resolve everything but is there anything you all would like to add to the list?

Many thanks to: Takeiteasycharlie; ; SociallyAwkwardTeenager; SammiRichGurl; Wake Up and Live; ; and KrystalRose92. Thanks to everyone for reading. My apologies for this short chapter. Still hope you enjoy.

* * *

**CHAPTER 64:**

"Please don't bother trying to find her,  
She's not there."

Zombies (She's Not There)

* * *

They had had an arrangement, he and Nora. He was meant to pick her up from work tonight. Those fifteen-minute interactions were the catalyst for resurrecting his memories of her. The more time he spent with her, the more he remembered about their hidden past. He _needed _to remember. He _wanted_ to remember.

But she wasn't at work when he got there. That much was obvious when he arrived at Enzo's Bistro in his black jeep to find the manager, Lesley, closing up.

"Has Nora left?" he'd asked, and Lesley had looked at him like someone to be avoided.

"Darlin' everyone's left," she'd responded, pointing out the empty parking lot.

"How did she leave? Did she take the bus?"

"Maybe," Lesley shrugged. "But she probably left with Elliot. They were talking about some big party happening tonight."

It made sense. Everyone was going to _that_ party tonight. Patch just hoped that he and Nora could keep their distance from each other. They couldn't ruin it. Patch _needed_ her. He _wanted_ her.

So after calling her mobile and it ringing into voicemail, Patch drove back to the party where he'd left his mark, only once feeling a brush of malicious intent upon her. But he'd become used to it after a few days on the job.

He entered the house, putting down the two bottles of soda in the kitchen that he'd bought on his way back – as 'promised'. He poured his girlfriend a drink and one for himself before making his way back to the sofa where he'd left her thirty minutes ago. Except now the sofa was occupied by two other people.

"Here," he said, holding out the plastic cup to her.

She looked up at the speaker, noticing his shoes before recognising his voice. She stood up, gave him a deadly stare, took both cups from his grasp and walked away as she took a sip from one of them.

Patch watched her over his shoulder. The night was still young and he preferred Marcie mad at him than Marcie throwing _herself_ at him. He'd make things right with her, but first he had to see Nora. Just once.

The party had become crowded and louder since he'd left earlier. And navigating through the waves of bobbing heads had become difficult when it was only one head he was looking for – an auburn brunette.

Not seeing her in the house, he scouted the yard from the height-advantage of the porch. Not one sign of her, not even with her outspoken best friend Vee.

But standing opposite her was Elliot, special friend Elliot. _He'd _know where Nora was. And he knew about their 'arrangement'.

Patch made his way through the packed garden and stood behind Elliot while he waited awkwardly for him to finish his conversation with Vee.

Vee's face hardened into an emotionless expression when she saw Patch standing behind Elliot like a dark, looming presence.

She was confused. Why was he standing there? Why was he even in their vicinity? Patch was history as far as Vee knew. Nora never said it changed.

Elliot turned around after noticing Vee's face change so suddenly.

"Elliot," Patch said as if he were saying the name for the first time.

"Patch," said Elliot, holding out his hand. Patch shook it firmly then, in an instant, hooked his arm around Elliot's neck and pulled him into the crowd. Vee panicked slightly. "What's up?" Elliot asked, casually.

"Just wondering where Nora is," said Patch, just as casually.

"What are you asking me for? I saw her leave in a black jeep. Could only be yours."

Patch was taken aback.

"_Your_ black jeep. The one you used to scare Nora into your arms. You remember, that time when you nearly ran her over... Yeah, _that_ jeep," said Elliot, bitterly.

Patch brushed off the hostile remarks, throwing in an unfazed laugh to lighten the mood, then lied. "Yeah. I picked her up. Took her home. She said she was coming to the party though. Thought she might've been here already."

"But it doesn't matter anyway, right? You two can't mingle 'cause _nobody can know_," said Elliot, distastefully.

Patch paused for a moment as if to give it some thought. "You're right. This is not the right place." He nodded his head. "Thanks man." And he left, but he wasn't considering Elliot's less-than-subtle advice. Patch _had to_ leave to find Nora. Nora who had climbed into a jeep just like his; a jeep that Nora had told him about, whose driver, two weeks ago, had attempted to kill her.


	65. Chapter 65: Taken by a stranger

**A/N: **It's getting exciting now, isn't it? Hehe! I'm glad you all are as excited as I am. I can't wait to finish it.

Many thanks to: SammiRichGurl; krmyers10; VarArSkarsgard; ; and Sorry I Just Did. Keep reading. It gets even better.

* * *

**CHAPTER 65:**

"Taken by a stranger,

Stranger things are starting to begin."

Lena (Taken By A Stranger)

* * *

Patch was desperate to get out of the party. Nora was in danger and he didn't know where to start looking for her but he knew where she wasn't. She wasn't at work and she wasn't at the party. Not even her friends knew where she was.

She hadn't picked up her phone when he'd called her earlier. He wasn't worried before when he thought she might've left her phone on _silent_, but now he had reason to worry. So the first place he'd look for her would be her house. That was the logical place to start.

He started up his jeep, sped down the street and out of suburbia.

He racked his brain trying to come up with suspects, thinking back, isolating any suspicious instances. But he came up with nothing.

Except for Elliot. His behaviour tonight was different from the other nights Patch had seen him at Enzo's or school. He'd always come across as light-hearted and friendly, until tonight – the night that Nora has gone missing.

Patch swore, if Nora wasn't at home, he was going to go right back to that party to kick Elliot's ass!

Just then, his phone beeped in his pocket. He kept one hand on the wheel as he fished it out.

_One new message..._ from Nora.

_Meet me at the pier at our SECRET place. xxx_


	66. Chapter 66: Uprising

**CHAPTER 66:**

"They will not force us.  
They will stop degrading us.  
They will not control us.  
We will be victorious.

Interchanging mind control.  
Come let the revolution take its toll.

If you could flick the switch and open your third eye,

You'd see that we should never be afraid to die

Rise up and take the power back, it's time that  
The fat cats had a heart attack, you know that  
Their time is coming to an end  
We have to unify and watch our flag ascend."

Muse (Uprising)

* * *

_The news of Chauncey de Langeais' death shook the nephilim world. There was only one way to kill them, after all, and that was to kill their female descendant._

_They weren't sure of why the female descendant was the only one that held the key to their demise. Possibly since women could bring new life into the world, they also had the power to destroy it? This wasn't something that the nehilim understood but it had happened before. And now they were all afraid of who it would happen to next._

_Every nephil with a female descendant went into red-alert mode, especially the clan in Maine where the murder was committed. Their president, Barnabus Underwood, was even more afraid since Chauncey died in the school his daughter was attending. The incident was too close to home for him not to be worried._

_Chauncey's death had started talks of a nephilim uprising. Leaders tried to keep their clans calm while they decided on a way to protect their kind. The uprising against fallen angels would mean war on earth. Who knew how many innocents would be caught in the cross-fire, nephilim female descendants being the easiest target for annihilating the enemy. The nephilim would surely lose the war, unless the Holy Realm stepped in before it was too late._

* * *

_In a musty, old bar outside Coldwater's city centre, Hank Millar took a seat next to a dark-haired gentleman at the bar._

_He said cordially, "Good afternoon, detective."_

"_Is it?" he asked, cynically. "You can call me Basso."_

_Not much light filtered through the wooden blinds on the windows. The bar was dark, dusty and littered with afternoon drunks._

"_What can I get you?" the aged barman asked Hank after he'd settled into his seat._

"_Whatever he's having," said Hank, pointing at the detective's drink._

"_Double whiskey on the rocks?"_

"_Make it a single. I still have work to get back to," said Hank._

"_Why did you want to meet here?" asked Basso after Hank got his drink._

"_I was hoping to employ your services," said Hank._

"_Tax payers employ me. I'm not a private dick."_

"_I could pay you very generously."_

_The detective sighed, "Look, Mr Millar, I don't even have enough time to take a dump. There's no way that I have time to do anything on the side, no matter how much you're offering to pay me. Why don't you tell me what the situation is and I'll try to find someone who can help you?"  
_

_Hank thought for a moment, gathering his words, "It's been nearly a year since my friend died. He was murdered and now I'm afraid something might happen to his family."_

"_You want a babysitter?" Basso asked, astonished. "No self-respecting cop would take on a job like that unless you set him up for an early retirement!"_

_Hank laughed lightly._

"_Look, I'm sorry about your friend. Has anything happened since his death to make you think his family is not safe?"_

"_Yes," said Hank. "Last week a boy died at his daughter's school, Coldwater High."_

"_That was a suicide."_

"_Was it?" Hank questioned. "The newspapers said there was an eyewitness – my friend's daughter."_

"_Nora Grey?" Basso remembered it clear as day._

"_Yes. I think that boy was after her, and somehow she survived it," he said, incredulously_

"_She sounds tough then," remarked Basso._

"_Detective Basso, I'm not asking for a babysitter. I just need you to check up on her and her mother once a day. That's all I'm asking."_

"_I'll give you a number for private security. They can help you out," said Basso, about to reach for his phone._

"_I really think you're the best person for the job," insisted Hank, stopping Basso's hand._

"_Why?"_

"_Because I know what you are." He had Basso's full attention now. "Do you know what I am?"_

_Basso's thoughts filled with suspicion._

_Hank said the words carefully, highlighting their double meaning: "I am a bastard child, born of sin... And there are more like me. We have an underground network all over the world. That boy that died was one of us. And you know there's only one way to kill one of us, right? Nora's _real_ father is one of us too – one of the higher-ranking ones – and he needs her to be protected."_

"_Why would I want to do that?" asked Basso._

"_Because the world is one dead nephilim away from an uprising."_


	67. Chapter 67: Coming undone

**A/N:** Well, last week was really slow on reviews but I can't really blame you. I must be pissing you off with my one-chapter-at-a-time updates. I really do apologise.

But I'm really thankful to get new readers and always grateful to the 'old' ones for sticking by me. Thank you so much: VarArSkarsgard; Twilight424; SammiRichGurl; DarkEdwardLover; and ArrowToTheHeart13. I really appreciate your adding me to your alerts and especially for reviewing because it always gets me excited and in the mood for writing.

* * *

**CHAPTER 67:**

"Keep holding on

When my brain's ticking like a bomb.

Guess the black thoughts have come

Again to get me.

Sweet, bitter words

Are like nothing I have heard.

Sing along mockingbird,

You don't affect me

...

Wait, I'm coming undone.

Irate, I'm coming undone.

Too late, I'm coming undone.

What looks so strong, so delicate."

Korn (Coming Undone)

* * *

She screamed but her voice was lost in the dark, lonely night. The moon lit the sand and the waves roared in the air as they crashed at the shore.

She was in pain but no amount of squirming could free her from the ropes that tied her to the pier. Her arms were twisted awkwardly behind the wooden pole, her feet wrapped tightly against the base in the sand. Without any balance, gravity forced her body to lean slightly away from the pole which only made the pain worse. And her neck was sore from being handled by her attacker that she couldn't even lift it up for longer than a few seconds. But she screamed some more.

She was afraid, but of _who_ she didn't know. She hadn't seen her attacker since she climbed into his car. She was scared and confused, alone and in pain.

"Ah!" she screamed. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Nora, Nora, Nora. You of all people should know why," said her attacker, feminine and sly. Nora tried to lift her head up, but it quickly dropped. "Take a closer look," she said, thrusting her face into Nora's view.

Nora recoiled gulping back fear, stuttering and gasping. "Dabria?"

Dabria, with her long blonde hair and ice-blue eyes, quietly laughed with pleasure. "Yes! I'm so glad you remember me. Saves time on having to explain why I hate you so much. And I'm not the only one, I've noticed."

"But Patch... he ripped your wings out... You left. I thought you were gone!"

"Yes, Patch ripped out my wings – they're healing by the way, thanks for asking. And once they have, I can ascend back home. Till then, I've been keeping myself busy."

"Are you going to kill me this time?" Nora asked, frightened.

"Yes," said Dabria. Nora whimpered and began sobbing. "Oh, stop it! Big girls don't cry," she said, patronizingly. "I'm not going to kill you. Then I _really_ can't go back home. Stupid laws," she mumbled.

"Then what do you want from me?" asked Nora, tears staining her cheeks.

"What I've always wanted, Nora. I want Patch... but you just can't take a hint."

"But Patch doesn't want you."

"Because you're always in the way!" Dabria screamed then took a breath. "I tried to take you out of the equation. I sent a rookie angel to tell Raguel to keep an eye on Patch because he was about to be tempted to fall again. And you must've done something because I watched as Raguel summoned him and performed a memory block on my dear Patch. Then he was reassigned and forgot all about you... and me... and several other people he used to know."

Nora's eyes widened, shocked by Dabria's betrayal.

"You know what the saddest part is? He totally didn't remember you and you _still_ ran after him. Damn it, Nora! How desperate can you be? You couldn't just move on. You _had_ to keep poking the bear!"

She took a few steps to calm herself down before she continued. "Well, I figured, sure, you _loved_ him," she giggled, "so moving on might not be so simple. So I decided to make you fear him... I purposely missed you when I drove that jeep right past you. It would have been better if I broke your leg or pelvis, but that blonde hot-bod saved you. Speaking of which, did you like him? Like _genuinely_ like him?"

"Did you hurt him?" Nora cried with worry.

"No, no, Nora. You have been my only priority. I'm only asking because _I_ stirred the pot for your little romance."

"What do you mean?"

"I lead you to _think_ you actually liked him. I made you _want_ to kiss him that day in the park. I wanted you to move on. Really, I did it for your own good. He's such a nice guy but you had so many hang-ups about his past. Well, let me tell you something: Patch has done much worse! What a double standard, you little bitch," she said, disgusted.

Nora wept as her head hung low. She questioned the reality of her world. Every decision and every moment seemed to lose its integrity as she began to realise that the last few months of her life had been played out by a master manipulator.

"I even entered your dreams and gave you nightmares of Patch. It worked for a bit but then you couldn't sleep, and you got bored... and you went to _Bo's Arcade_ to find him. And I caught you two kissing." She waited for Nora to catch up. "Yes, Nora. That was me in disguise from _you_. All I wanted was to spend some time with Patch... but you just couldn't give a girl a break!"

Nora shivered in terror.

"And that's when you two started getting close again; him giving you a lift home every night after work. I thought that was bad until I entered your dream last night and I saw you two. He'd been in your dreams before then and you two were keeping it a secret. You little whore!"

Nora's head shot up.

"Yes, Nora, I saw it. I saw you two. It makes me sick!"

Several emotions moved over Nora's face: fear, betrayal, hurt, humiliation, vulnerability. Nothing was sacred anymore. The only chance she'd ever had at happiness with Patch, had been trampled on and exposed. Their secret had not been a secret for long and now she feared for Patch's safety. What would they do to him if they found out?

"So here we are at your _secret place_. Patch will be joining us soon." She smiled then changed her expression into loathing. "If I achieve nothing else tonight, I hope I at least taint the memory of this place for you, Nora." Dabria stood beside her shaking victim and said into her ear, "You should be ashamed of what you've done. Patch will be cast into hell for all eternity if the others find out about what you two have done. I'm trying to _save_ him from that and you are leading him right into the burning front door."


	68. Chapter 68: My favourite game

**A/N:** Hope you've all enjoyed your long Easter weekend; I know I have. Thanks for reading once again. I hope you enjoy this one.

Thanks to: ArrowToTheHeart13; Demi; Vero Diaz; juzgi9; fields-of-emerald; SammiRichGurl; and VarArSkarsgard.

* * *

**CHAPTER 68:**

"I don't know what you're looking for.

You haven't found it, baby, that's for sure.

You rip me up, you spread me all around

In the dust of the deed of time.

And this is not a case of lust, you see.

It's not a matter of you versus me.

It's fine the way you want me on your own,

But in the end it's always me alone

...

I only know what I've been working for –

Another you so I could love you more.

I really thought that I could take you there,

But my experiment is not getting us anywhere.

I had a vision I could turn you right,

A stupid mission and a lethal fight.

I should have seen it when my hope was new.

My heart is black and my body is blue.

And I'm losing my favourite game.

You're losing your mind again.

...

I'm losing my baby,

Losing my favourite game."

The Cardigans (My Favourite Game)

* * *

In search of Nora, Patch drove along the coastline, keeping his eye on the beach for any activity. There were two piers along that stretch of the coast – one was built above a collection of rocks, the other was built above the regular sea sand. In Nora's _secret_ place, there were no rocks. Therefore the correct pier, from Patch's deduction, was isolated from the road and connected by a small wooden walkway. The only way he could get there was by foot.

Before the road curved away from the shore, he parked his car in one of the many available parking bays and slammed the door shut feeling annoyed and on edge. Annoyed because Nora had had him worried, and on edge because he knew he was being watched. He had tried so hard to keep his distance since remembering her that he was afraid one meeting would be the end of him. If _they_ found out, he'd never see her again.

He didn't know how to exist without her. She'd filled a void inside him he never knew was empty and now he couldn't imagine existing without being _more _complete. Yes, that was what she'd done to him. She'd given him a new experience; like a blind man gaining his sight, he could never go back to shutting off his feelings for her. His world was better this way. Better but dangerous for them both.

He moved quickly along the winding pathway that led up to the pier. He heard a voice in the distance which meant Nora was not alone, unless she really did talk to herself like he'd always suspected. He stepped as softly and as quickly as possible down the path as it opened on to the old, wooden pier.

The voice got louder as it shouted under the pier. Patch didn't recognize it as Nora's voice and then he thought maybe he'd been lured there using Nora's phone and the culprit was shouting into her stolen phone. But then he heard whimpering and choked breaths. There were definitely two people below the pier, and he was afraid that the second one might be Nora.

Knowing that the wooden planks of the pier would moan beneath his feet and give away the element of surprise, Patch took a silent and measured climb down the wall of large cement blocks adjacent to the wide pier.

He flattened his back against the blocks and used the curve of the wall to hide himself from the culprit. From there he could see Nora on the far side of the pier, head hung low and her arms tied behind her back. And next to her stood a woman he'd seen around town on a few occasions, most recently at _Bo's Arcade_ when he'd played at the same table with her. That was also the night he first kissed Nora; the kiss that jogged his memory. And this same woman had walked in on them.

Looking at the situation, Patch thought it might be a case of giving back the money he'd won off her in exchange for Nora – a ransom Patch would agree to without hesitation. He'd do anything to keep Nora safe.

The woman stood firmly in the sand, keeping a watchful eye over the beach. When she wasn't looking in Patch's direction anymore, he slid along the wall as close as he could until the curve lead him into view and he walked casually towards Nora, knowing he'd be seen as soon as the woman heard his tracks in the sand.

And she did.

She turned her head sharply when she heard the noise, her eyes widening in surprise and her mouth grinning broadly.

"What's going on here?" Patch asked, trying to keep the situation as calm as possible, knowing that humans were easily susceptible to letting their emotions get the better of them.

"Patch!" Nora cried, trying with great effort to lift her head to see him. "Help me!"

Hearing the distress in her voice, he ran for Nora. Even as the sand gave way beneath his feet, it did not hinder his speed.

Nora kept her head up despite the pain, watching Patch get nearer with every second that she held it there. He was going to save her from the pain. He was going to take care of Dabria the way he'd done before.

Only a few strides from Nora, Patch was intercepted by Dabria who stopped him with a forceful kiss to the mouth.

Time seemed to stop for Patch the same way his speed had. Holes in his memory were being filled with the presence of this woman he never even knew... or did he?

Multitudes of recollections swam in his mind, finding their place in his memory timeline, the last of which was the instance he'd ripped out her wings for trying to kill Nora in a house fire.

And then the kiss was broken.

"You," said Patch, sudden realisation hitting him.

With joy in her eyes, Dabria replied, "Yes, it's me."

His eyes darkened. His hand reached for her neck and he threw her to the ground with a primal cry. She rolled backwards across the sand and out from under the pier. She got to her feet but Patch was quickly in front of her and delivered a powerful kick to her stomach, the force of which knocked her back several steps.

Patch then began glowing with a white aura, charging up for the next round.

Nora's human eyes couldn't see the glowing power surrounding him but she watched breathlessly hoping it would all be over soon.

Then Dabria began glowing realising she would need the extra power to defend herself against Patch, unless she could reason with him. "I'm trying to save you!" said Dabria, desperately.

"From what?"

"From yourself! From sinning again."

An indignant huff escaped Patch's lips. "Me? Looks like _you_ were the one about to sin. What were you going to do? Kill her?"

"No," she answered, saddened that he would think that of her. She unsheathed a hunting knife from her side. "I'm going to cut her free... but you have to stop this," she pleaded. "You can't fall in love with her. Don't you know you're being watched?"

"She told the angels to watch you!" shouted Nora. "It's her fault you don't remember!"

Nora was quickly silenced when Dabria moved to her side and pointed the knife to her throat, warning her through gritted teeth, "Shut up."

A fire ignited within Patch and he charged at Dabria, pulling the knife away from Nora, and exploded into a tumbling ball of punches and kicks fighting for possession of the knife.

With both angels gleaming brightly, the shore became illuminated and the sky was streaked with their light the way floodlights did when they shone into the night sky.


	69. Chapter 69: Ain't no rest for the wicked

**A/N:** Where did the weekend go? Gosh!

As always, thanks for reading, reviewing and adding me to your alerts: SammiRichGurl; IloveImpacts; ArrowToTheHeart13; SociallyAwkwardTeenager; Gaara''sWife; ImmaEnforcer; and Thankies for Caring.

Here are two chapters. Yippee! Enjoy and let me know what you think.

* * *

**CHAPTER 69:**

"Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked.  
Money don't grow on trees.  
I got bills to pay,  
I got mouths to feed,  
There ain't nothing in this world for free.  
I know I can't slow down,  
I can't hold back,  
Though you know, I wish I could.  
Oh no, there ain't no rest for the wicked  
Until we close our eyes for good."

Cage The Elephant (Ain't No Rest For The Wicked)

* * *

Against the backdrop of the clear night sky, the silhouette of a man appeared from the second storey of the Grey Farmhouse. It leapt to the ground, fell into a roll and came out of it in long strides across the lawn, disappearing into the bushes.

Basso was alert.

Up until now the 'job' had been easy. Nora had never given him any cause for alarm, her life was nothing out of routine. She'd go to school, go to work, come home, sleep. With a mother that was out of town often, he was surprised that Nora never tried throwing a party or sneaking out of the house late at night (except for that one time). That had been the only abnormal thing about her.

But just because the job was easy it didn't make it a pleasant one. He didn't like having to look out for the half-breed. Sometimes he wished she'd just die of something 'natural' like pneumonia instead of being murdered by something supernatural like a fallen angel. Then the nephilim uprising wouldn't be on his shoulders anymore and he could be out solving real crime instead of babysitting the little tyke.

But this mystery person leaving Nora's house in such a suspicious manner was something to be concerned about. Knowing that Nora would probably be home later, Basso knew he had to follow the suspect.

He kept his engine and lights off as he waited, watched and listened for the perpetrator's next move.

In the distance a car started up and turned out of a parking spot. Basso jumped, started his car up and turned his headlights on to look as ordinary as possible. He ran the plates through the system – a Patrick Donahue came up as the owner with nothing more than a few speeding fines against his name.

Keeping a safe following distance, Basso pursued the suspect as he meandered through the streets of town, until finally pulling into an empty parking lot next to Enzo's Bistro.

Rixon parked his car unreservedly in the open parking lot and eyed the Bistro carefully, hoping Mrs Grey was right about her daughter's whereabouts. But it was obvious that no one was inside the store and Nora wasn't where she was supposed to be.

Rixon didn't like this. All the signs had come to him in the same day: the mortality ritual on Detective Basso's chest; Marcie's ramblings about her father's affair with Mrs Grey which lead him to investigate her house, which then guided him to the all important papers from the bank – a trust fund set up for Nora, signed by Blythe Grey and Hank Millar. Hank Millar who always takes care of his own _children_. Nora Grey was a descendant of Barnabus Underwood, Rixon's nephil. Rixon had found his new sacrifice.

He couldn't believe his luck. He'd been trying to sacrifice Marcie all this time, never succeeding thanks to her guardian angel. But Nora has no guardian. She'd be an easy target, once Rixon could find her of course.

And like a sign from above – while scoping the area by car – he saw flashing lights in the distance in the direction of the beach. The same kind of lights he'd seen the night Patch had had his memory tampered with. Rixon smiled widely and drove toward the lights, and Basso followed.


	70. Chapter 70: Barton Hollow

**CHAPTER 70:**

"I'm a dead man walking here,

But that's the least of all my fears.

- Underneath the water

It's not Alabama clay

That gives my trembling hands away.

Please forgive me father.

Ain't going back to Barton Hollow.

Devil gonna follow me e'er I go.

Won't do me no good washing in the river.

Can't no preacher man save my soul.

...

Miles and miles in my bare feet,

Still can't lay me down to sleep.

If I die before I wake

I know the Lord my soul won't take."

The Civil Wars (Barton Hollow)

* * *

Basso kept his near-perfect vision on the suspect – from the Grey farmhouse to Enzo's Bistro to the seaside – analysing every move he made but never seeing his face because he never looked back.

Parked a block from the suspect's car, Basso waited, giving the man space to feel comfortable until he exposed himself and his plan. Chances were, the perpetrator was scouting out the Grey house for a possible hit. That place was the perfect target for a house robbery, it being so isolated and unoccupied most of the time.

The suspect got out of his car, looked out at the ocean, and then turned to his side to make sure the coast was clear – giving Basso a clear look at his face.

Basso's eyes narrowed. He recognised him from the coffee shop... Patrick who gave him a spare shirt after his girlfriend Vee ruined _his_ shirt with her clumsiness. Vee Sky, Nora's friend.

Basso wasn't sure why, but he knew that everything was connected to Nora. Something was going to happen to the Grey family: a home invasion or maybe even a premeditated murder.

Hank Millar had tried to warn him about this the day they'd met in the bar, the day he was forced into this responsibility. He'd never given it any precedence but he'd still conducted the same procedures he would with any tip off. If Hank's warning stirred anything in him besides worry for an impending war, it was the fact that Jules's case was unsolved.

So Basso ran background checks on all of Nora's friends for any leads, and the only one who came up empty was her boyfriend, Patch. Tracking him was hard, especially when not even she knew where he was. So Basso left the case as a suicide. What he was more concerned about was whether the mortality ritual had been attempted or whether it was a rare case of a nephil killing.

The latter was trouble enough to absolve in the legal system but it wouldn't compare to the trouble the former would bring. After all, he was there when the ritual happened for the first and only time. He was also the only one who got away.

Ecanus remembered hiding from Kilto and Gaila as they continued their experiments on the bond between nephilim and their human descendants. They'd already established that killing the human girls would kill off their oldest nephil ancestors.

That day, one girl sacrificed herself in place of her sister, and said to Gaila, "I wish you mortality. I wish you dead." Gaila laughed and gave her what she asked for, even though she was a descendant of Gaila's nephil. Gaila, like so many fallen angels, was under the impression that choosing a nephil was like a snake shedding its skin – it could be replaced whenever necessary, but a fallen-nephil pairing is an eternal bond.

The girl died instantly, Gaila fell to the ground and her nephil looked on. Clearly the nephil only died when the female descendant was murdered - not when she sacrificed herself willingly.

Azrael, an angel of death, appeared within minutes to reap the girl's soul but found instead a murdered child and a blood-stained ex-angel writhing in pain on the floor. Azrael disappeared just as quickly, leaving Ecanus in a worried state. He'd witnessed the destruction of creation and a miraculous rebirth.

As the angel of writers, Ecanus had to record the event, but gauging Azrael's reaction when it saw the site, Ecanus knew the record may never see the light of day.

So he hastily returned to the Holy Realm, polluting his mind with irrelevant thoughts to cover up his guilty conscience and isolating himself from the others. He was lucky to come by Jamaerah, who was a rank higher than Ecanus and so could perform the memory block.

Ecanus left Jamaerah's side to prepare his dummy human body the way all angels did before they disembarked for Earth. He immortalised the procedure by scarring his human form and returned to Jamaerah to have that time period of his memory blocked.

There was an immediate hearing on Earth for Kilto, since he was fallen and could not ascend to the Holy Realm. Azrael was also present since he was the one that reported it. Ecanus was recalled to the hearing immediately to find everyone implicated in the event besides Gaila - she was human now and so not allowed to take part in angel matters.

They pulled from Kilto's thoughts the memory of telling Ecanus about his great plan to end up in the Holy records. Ecanus appeared at the hearing giving mental evidence of Kilto's plan, but gave no evidence of the event as Jamaerah had blocked the memory. Kilto was found guilty of murder and unrighteous actions against his duty. God, the highest angel, blocked the memory of the event from all those present and it was never inscribed in the Holy records. Kilto was further punished by being sentenced to an eternity in Abaddon.

When the angels ascended back to the Holy Realm and gossip of an incident spread like wildfire, Jamaerah had figured out that Ecanus had made it block something important. That it wasn't an experiment that Ecanus wanted blocked, but an offence against his duty.

"I know what you did," Jamaerah thought forcefully. "Now I am a part of your sin. If the others find my thoughts revealing of this, I will not hide it from them. If you stay here, you'll be found out. I will be found out... You may not stay here."

Only once Ecanus returned to Earth and saw his reflection did he understand what Jamearah meant, and slowly pieces of his memory came together over hundreds of years. By that time, he wasn't only hiding from the angels, he was hiding from his guilt over having involved Jamaerah in his treachery.

Branded with his sin, he devoted his entire existence to never allowing the ritual to happen again, not only for the human's sake but for his own safety too. For Ecanus knew that Enoch, the lover of the sacrificial girl, stealthily witnessed the event too and was the only other scribe to record the ritual, had had his scrolls taken from him by the archangels and burned. But the gossip from Enoch's version lead fallen angels to believe that the nephil descendant was merely to be sacrificed, when in fact it must be a voluntary sacrifice. And that is where the nephil killings come in; others attempting the ritual.

Ecanus knew someday, his involving Jamaerah would come back to bite him, that he'd be found and prosecuted for his betrayal. And if they ever found out that he knew the exact ritual and allowed it to happen again, his wings would be ripped from their roots and he'd be sent to Abaddon.

That's why he desperately had to make sure that Jules' death was not an attempt at the mortality ritual because that kind of attention would get him caught.

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you'er not more confused than you were before. Stay with me. We've got a great ending to get to.


	71. Chapter 71: Special death

**A/N:** So, I'm really glad you all are enjoying the story even though I make you wait a week between chapters. I really have to thank you for sticking with me. I'm really passionate about good story-telling and plots so I'm pacing myself.

As always, big thanks to the following people for their fanship: Gaara''sWife; VarArSkarsgard; ArrowToTheHeart13; SammiRichGurl; IloveImpacts; KandieCTS; bookgirl98; and tiredofwaiting. You are all very much appreciated.

* * *

**CHAPTER 71:**

"A terrible mistake was made.

The weight would break the backs of ten strong horses

Tried to save the castle in the fray.

If you knew that I could take the pain

Inflicted at the battle with faithful arrows,

You might get back in the saddle.

But it's a special death you saved

For me, the brown-eyed daughter

Mirah (Special Death)

* * *

Rixon began his walk down the road along the beach, keeping his sights on the angelic lights. He had no idea what they held for him but curiosity always seemed to reward him.

When the road curved away from the ocean, Rixon stood on top of the railing next to the sidewalk and jumped down to the sand twenty feet below with minimal effort. The lights were less than 200 yards away now but the scene was blurred by a thin cloud of mist that blanketed the shore.

The closer he got, the more he could make out. He could see two figures battling inside the cocoon of bright radiance emitting from their bodies. Of course he knew the lights in the sky were being caused by angels but who and why was a bigger concern.

Closer and closer he got, till he could see the figures clearly - half translucent and half human as they fought – Patch and Dabria, equally matched. _How interesting_, he thought.

And then something else caught his eye with great pleasure. Only six-feet away from their fight, was Nora tied to the pier, sheltered from public view. He'd found his sacrifice at last, as if she was waiting for him.

He raised his eyes sarcastically to the heavens, trying to find someone to thank for all the luck that had come his way. There were only three things left to do: getting the two angels far from Nora – for all he knew, she was part of their fight – then making Nora want to die and killing her.

He stroked the slender knife in his pocket which he'd taken from his car and began working his gift into Nora's mind as he continued to get nearer.

Nora didn't feel the burning of the ropes or their painful pressure around her wrists and ankles anymore. She felt a cold sweat over her entire body, her toes and fingers frozen.

Her heart raced as she watched Patch fighting Dabria only six feet away from her, battling for possession of the knife as their fight whizzed around her like a tornado. When they got too close, she tried to pull her body right against the pole to prevent herself from getting in the way, but her muscles would begin shaking if she held it for longer than a few seconds.

Their movements were too swift for her to make out but occasionally she saw a glint of light hit the blade as it passed between the two angels, once even cutting through her denim pants.

She'd hoped the fight would've been over soon, and when it felt like it had gone on for longer than fifteen minutes, she began to seriously worry. Not only for herself but for Patch too. She was afraid that if the archangels were watching, they'd have seen and heard everything that had been going on. What if they'd heard what Dabria had said, about knowing of their secret meetings and their rekindled love? It would ruin everything. It would destroy Patch's earthly existence. And Nora couldn't let that happen.

She wished she could break free of the ropes the way they did in the movies, even though she knew she wouldn't be of any help in the fight. She just wished she could help Patch, to save him from a horrible punishment which she felt she'd been the cause of.

She'd fallen in love with him and for that they made him forget about her for his own safety. But she couldn't let him go. She had to fix things with him. She needed to be with him. And then he fell in love with her, just like she wanted and now it would be the end of him.

She had to stop this. She had to save him. She couldn't be selfish this time. She had to save him from Dabria telling. She had to give Dabria what she wanted.

"Dabria," she mumbled. She gulped and said louder, "Dabria, stop." The fight continued despite her pleading. Harsh tears erupted from her eyes and burned her cold cheeks as she prepared to give up. The words came out dis-joined by her crying, "You win... You can have him. Just please don't tell anyone. Don't let them hurt him. Please... just stop."

That was it. Nora was willing to sacrifice her fragile heart for him, anything, to prevent him from being punished because of her. If it would save him, she'd jump in front of a bullet for him. Yes, she would give her life for him. That was how much she loved him.

The tears and sobs and cries carried on, her mouth repeating the words "Please stop" as her head hung from her shoulders, and her shoulders slanted away from the pole she was tied to.

Suddenly her shoulders jolted back with sudden force. A sharp breath escaped her.

"No," Dabria gasped.

Nora looked straight ahead and met Patch's eyes full of worry and fear – finally she could read him – but then she followed his eyes as they dropped to find his hand still holding on to the hunting knife lodged in her chest, puncturing her heart.


	72. Chapter 72: Bad dream

**A/N:** Sorry I left you on such a cliffhanger but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Haha!

Thanks to my valuable readers: Sorry I Just Did; IloveImpacts; Rockerchick09; VarArSkarsgard; purplepeace; tiredofwaiting; Nicole3012; resented; and candywasted. It's great to see some old names - I know this story has been going on forever already. Thanks for sticking with me.

* * *

**CHAPTER 72:**

"...Without you life is a bad dream.

...

So open your eyes, open your eyes.  
I need you wide awake now.  
Come on get up, come on get up,  
'Cause I'm having a breakdown  
Show me your love, show me your love.  
Tell me that you'll never leave me."

Ben's Brother (Bad Dream)

* * *

"This is Detective Basso Charlie-one-nine. Eleven-forty-one at Shepherd's Pier. We have a two-forty-five. Hurry!" Basso yelled into his cellphone as he watched the scene unfold.

Rixon looked over his shoulder to the detective up above on the sidewalk, suddenly worried how much he'd seen and how long he'd been following Rixon. So he dropped the act because he just needed answers. He turned to face Basso and shouted up to him, "Is it going to work?"

"What?" yelled Basso, making his way carefully down the steep slope.

"The writing on your chest," Rixon gestured with his hands. "The Book of Enoch Legend, is it going to work on him?" He pointed in the direction of Patch.

Basso stopped in his tracks, realising this man knew about the Book and angels, and even worse, that he knew Basso's secret. The man could only read the writing if he were one of the Holy Realm too.

And then, for the first time in over two-thousand years, Basso let his façade crumble as he sensed the severity of the situation he was in. He had no need to pretend anymore, so he jumped off the slope as effortlessly as Rixon had before and marched up to him. "What do you know?" he demanded in a stern voice.

"She's his nephil's descendant, and he just killed her. That's how it works, right? It's going to work, right?" asked Rixon, a little excitedly.

Basso's face froze, his mouth unable to find the words to respond.

"Yes!" rejoiced Rixon, reading the muteness as a confirmation. And even though Rixon knew Nora wasn't killed by his own hand as Basso's writings said it should be, he knew he still had one more chance in Marcie Millar.

Rixon dashed in the opposite direction and climbed the steep slope like a spider up a wall while Basso stood conflicted on whether to stop Rixon from getting away or trying to save Nora's life. By the time he'd come to a decision, Rixon was out of sight so he ran to Nora.

As she stared at the knife gaping from her chest, another gasp escaped Nora while she watched the blood stain her grey shirt and trickle downwards. She had a sudden moment of déjà vu as she recalled the dream she'd had of Patch stabbing her in the stomach. Her eyes swelled up with tears and she became light-headed very quickly. Her knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed against the pole.

Patch gently pulled the knife from her wound and quickly replaced it with the pressure of his hand as he nimbly cut the ropes loose. She fell forward on to Patch and he laid her down as Dabria, in her frantic state, began chanting revival spells.

Dabria panicked. She never wanted Nora to die, not like that, not at Patch's hand. It all happened so quickly. Dabria was only trying to keep the knife to prevent Patch from cutting Nora loose. To and fro the knife changed hands so quickly; and further and nearer their fight danced around Nora until it got too close when Patch yanked the knife from Dabria's hand, pulled it into him and turned away from her just as Dabria spun and kicked him before he had completely spun around. Patch's whole body stumbled forward into Nora, knife first.

It was an accident and either Patch would have his power revoked for killing a human, or, if the mortality ritual was true, he'd become human. Either way, she'd lose Patch. She couldn't let that happen again.

So she dug deep into her Angel-of-Death powers to find the control to stop Nora from dying.

"Keep the pressure or she'll bleed to death!" she shouted at Patch.

She placed her hands on Nora's head and abdomen and concentrated on the power within her. She started to glow but she got no response from the dying body.

Patch, knees in the sand beside the body, held his hand firmly over the wound as the blood seeped between his fingers. "Is it working?" he asked, alarmed by the amount of blood outside Nora's body.

"I'm trying!" cried Dabria, closing her eyes tighter.

Patch felt helpless as he stared down at Nora's pale face and the crimson blood trickling from the corner of her blue mouth. His usually agile mind was vacant of any useful ideas to stop the woman he loved from dying.

On a sudden impulse, Patch reached for his phone to call for an ambulance. He didn't believe they would make it in time to save Nora's life but he couldn't let her die without trying. With his left hand he reached into his back pocket and gripped the top of the phone.

Just then Nora's heart stopped.


	73. Chapter 73: What the water gave me

**CHAPTER 73:**

"Time, it took us to where the water was.

That's what the water gave me.

...

And oh, poor Atlas, the world's a beast of a burden.

...

'Cause she's a cruel mistress and a bargain must be made.

But oh, my love, don't forget me. I let the water take me.

Lay me down.

Let the only sound be the over flow.

Pockets full of stones."

Florence + The Machine (What The Water Gave Me)

* * *

In an instant Patch keeled over, his shoulders hitting the sand and his legs pushing him further in as a sudden pain grew throughout his body. His arms and legs contorted and he gritted his teeth as he tried to gain control of his body.

But when the pain shot through to the ends of his limbs, he cried out. His clawed fingers gripped his chest where it was beating inside with heavy, painful strikes.

Dabria had replaced Patch's hand on Nora's wound as soon as she'd noticed him squirming on the ground. She tried not to get distracted from saving Nora even though she feared she may be too late. She couldn't give up.

With one more burst of power, she pushed life into the corpse and simultaneously, Nora and Patch took in a loud struggled breath of life.

Nora's head whipped back as the oxygen passed through her throat, and then fell to the side as she coughed up the bloody fluid that had gathered in her lungs. After a moment, she stopped when she could breathe easily again and noticed her arm stretched out at her side. She eyed her fingers and forced her brain to make them move. They stretched out from her palm and returned when she relaxed. She wiggled her toes as she stared into the dark sky.

She could feel her toes inside her shoes and the sand inside her jeans and the cooling wind on her face. She didn't know how she'd ended up lying on the sand but she had done the necessary checks to know she was alive and well.

She rolled her head to the other side when she heard groans and found Patch twisting in pain. The sand scratched the skin of his elbows as he tried to pick himself off the ground but all of the muscles in his body pained as they stretched and flexed to lift his weight. He collapsed into the sand, the impact pounding against his back and forcing a grunt out of him.

He had no control of his limbs anymore. Anything he did was painful and difficult, and it felt like he had to fight the sand and the wind too.

As he lay there, limbs bent and uncooperative, his lungs begged for oxygen and he mimicked the breathing activities humans had done. But breathing was hard to concentrate on when there was a pounding in his chest that never ended. It beat against his torso as he watched it quake beneath his shirt. He put his hand on top of it hoping the banging would stop hurting.

Nora sat up, wanting to get nearer to Patch, when she noticed Dabria sitting between them. Dabria looked surprised by her sudden movement and then a distorted smile crept on to her face. Nora, crawled backwards, retreating from Dabria with speed, and crashed into something bony. She looked up and found Dectective Basso looking down at her in shock and confusion.

"You're alive?" asked Basso, astonished, to which Nora replied with a blank stare, not sure of the answer now.

"Yes," answered Dabria. "Yes. She's alive. I brought her back to life." Even she couldn't believe the words.

Basso walked up to Patch and pinched his arm. Patch yelped and put his hand to the stinging area to soothe the pain.

"And you're..." Basso couldn't finish the sentence. He promptly pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialled Hank Millar's number, each ring feeling like a minute apart.

"Hello," said the voice on the other side.

Basso rushed through his call. "It's me. Look, something's happened. Nora died tonight but she's alive now."

"What?"

"I can't explain much right now but she was stabbed, then died and now she's not. She's alive. Has our agreement been breached?"

Hank was silent for a moment. "No," he answered, unsure. "But stay with her."

"I can't," said Basso, immediately. "There was a kid hanging around here and I need to find him. He knew about... _us_."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know. Some Irish kid goes by the name Patrick Donahue."

"Did he have a scar below his eye?"

"Uh... yeah."

"His name is Rixon. I'm his nephil."

"Do you think he's after your daughter?"

"Yes. You need to stop him. She's at a party in Cliff Street. I'm on my way now."

* * *

**A/N: **I couldn't leave you on another cliffie, that's why I added this chapter but this isn't the end either. Now we'll have to see what happens to Marcie...


	74. Chapter 74: When they come for me

**A/N: **You know I couldn't let Nora die. How would we share Patch among the rest of us if she did? Hahaha! The story is 98% DONE. We're almost there. Here's another chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

Many thanks to: candywasted; IloveImpacts; Peppermint Paisley; tiredofwaiting (you should sign in with your profile then we can talk via pm); and Yumeo. Your fanship is greatly appreciated.

* * *

**CHAPTER 74:**

"Oh, when they come for me,

I'll be gone.

...

Try to catch up, motherfucker."

Linkin Park (When They Come For Me)

* * *

The phone rang... and rang... and rang till it went to voicemail. Hank exhaled calmly and tried again. He dialled his daughter's mobile number once more and it rang and it rang and it rang.

"Hello," the familiar voice of his little girl finally answered over the loud music in the background.

"Marcie, where are you?" he asked, trying to remain calm.

"I'm still at the party. Why?"

"I'm coming to fetch you now."

"But, daddy... why? You said-"

"Don't question me. Listen to me. I said I'm coming to fetch you. Wait for me and don't leave the party with anyone else," he said more strictly.

A sigh from Marcie's end. "Fine." Then she hung up after a quick goodbye.

At home, Hank rushed down the stairs and into the garage, unlocking his car with one click. He jumped in and slammed the door shut, reversed swiftly out of the driveway and accelerated down the street.

Meanwhile, at the party, Marcie slipped the phone into her front pocket, a little annoyed. She didn't want her dad showing up at the party to take her home before it was even midnight. That was so uncool.

On the other hand, she wasn't really enjoying herself since she'd been so mad at Patch the whole night. She just wanted to find him, make up and make out with him, then let him take her home. But she hadn't seen him in the last forty minutes. Maybe he'd found someone who _would_ sit with his shit unlike Marcie who was as stubborn as she was bitchy.

She opted to get herself a drink of water to help sober up before her dad pitched up. She walked into the lively kitchen and emptied a bottle of water into a cup then made her way back to the garden where a small crowd had gathered to play _Truth or Dare._

The truth questions ranged from "of all the people in this circle, who would you NOT want to be stuck in a lift with?" to "when's the last time you watched a porno?"

And the dares included making a five-person pyramid, doing karaoke to Celine Dion, teaching the group sex-ed. on a teddy-bear, and wearing someone else's socks.

Before Marcie could have a turn, someone called her from behind. She turned around to find the face in the crowd and saw Rixon standing casually several feet away with a drink in one hand and the other in his pocket.

She pointed to herself and mouthed the word "me?" to which he nodded and beckoned her over. She reluctantly got up with her drink and approached him as he took a sip of his.

"Did you find Patch?" he asked when she stood before him.

"I'm not looking for Patch. He should be looking for _me_."

"He _is_ looking for you."

"He is?" she asked, warmed by the idea. Rixon nodded. "Where is he?"

"He's out front."

"Why's he there?"

Rixon shrugged. "'Dunno. Maybe he wants to talk."

Marcie smiled only very slightly but quickly hid it to cover up her need to give in. "Fine," she simply said and brushed past Rixon into the house and out the other side.

The front yard was empty although not quiet. She could still hear the music from the backyard and the chatter from the door behind her.

"Patch?" she called into the darkness beyond the house. There was no answer and no movement. She turned around and headed back through the front door where she found Rixon walking past.

"Did you find him?" asked Rixon, noticing Marcie enter the house alone.

"No. No one's outside," she replied, disappointed.

"Are you sure?" he asked, putting his drink down and guiding her out the door again to the empty yard.

"See?"

"There he is," pointed Rixon to a black jeep parked outside the neighbour's house. Marcie lit up inside, hoping Patch would make this night better before her dad ended it too soon. "Come on," said Rixon, guiding her to the vehicle with his hand gently on her back.

He stopped at the boot of the car and allowed her to walk the rest of the way to the passenger door. She looked into the black tinted windows, imagining him staring back at her. She pulled on the door handle and it opened. She climbed inside and shut the door behind her. She looked up and found Rixon in the driver's seat. Suddenly all the doors locked simultaneously, he turned the keys in the ignition and drove off.

"What the hell?" Marcie freaked.

Rixon laughed it off, driving steadily in the jeep he'd stolen on his way from the pier. "Don't worry. We're just going around the block."

"Why?" she asked, but Rixon held only a cheeky smile and no answer. "Did Patch put you up to this?" Rixon nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. She sighed, disappointed that Patch wasn't in the car. She was also afraid her dad would arrive at the party before they could get back.

Rixon had turned on the radio in the meantime to some pop music and Marcie made a mental note to download the song that was playing once she got home later.

"Where is Patch?" she asked, several blocks later.

"It's a secret," he replied, feigning excitement.

"Thought you said it was around the block."

"It's an expression."

"How far is it really?" she asked, concerned about the time.

"Five more minutes."

"Good. We need to hurry 'cause I'm supposed to give my friends a lift home soon or their parents are going to ground them." She lied to cover up her own fear of being shouted at by her dad if she wasn't at the party like he'd ordered.

"Don't worry. We'll be quick," he assured her. "Some parents are so lame. Are your parents like that?"

"No," she quickly answered, "My parents are cool, you know, if parents could even be cool."

Rixon turned on a laugh and they both went quiet. He focused on the road while projecting calming thoughts into Marcie's mind while she turned her head to look out the window and noticed they were already out of the suburbs and heading for the highway.

"Why are you going this way?" she asked, alarmed that they'd driven this far already.

"We're going to Patch," he repeated.

She begged, "Let's just turn around. I don't have time for this. My friends are waiting for me."

"But we're almost there."

She sighed and turned to look out the window again. All she could think of was the trouble she was going to be in with her dad. She never had many rules to abide by so when her dad gave her an order she knew he was serious.

She pulled out her phone, swiftly typed up a message on the keyboard and pressed _send_. Noticing it only at the last moment, Rixon grabbed her phone from her.

"Hey! Give it back!"

"Who were you texting?" he asked, trying to take a look through the phone while keeping one hand on the wheel.

"None of your business!" she said and quickly reached for the phone, grabbing hold of the top half. But he yanked it from her grip and proceeded to wind down his electronic window three-quarters of the way before wide-eyed Marcie asked, "What are you doing?" He chucked the phone out of the window and she screamed in anguish. "That's my phone! It's not a toy, you dumbass! Stop the car right now," she demanded.

"No," he simply said. He needed to get rid of any tracking devices, and the greater the distance between them, the harder it would be to find him and Marcie's dead body. He had to make sure that when the authorities came for the girl, he'd be gone. He pulled up his own phone and offered it to her, "If it makes you feel any better you can throw mine out too."

She grabbed it without thinking and pushed herself into the corner as far away from him as possible, then dialled the only number she could remember off the top of her head. When he leaned over to repossess the phone she put her back against the door and stretched out a leg to kick him away. She kept him at bay for three rings before he managed to get hold of the phone and toss it out the window.

"You asshole! What the fuck is your problem?"

"Calm down. I'll buy you a new one. We're almost there."

"I would be calm if you weren't acting like a dick! Let me out now!"

"I'm not stopping this car. You can jump if you want to but we're going eighty-miles-an-hour." He raised an eyebrow as if to dare her.

That shut her up. She sat stiffly in her seat and weighed her options. She knew she couldn't jump from a speeding vehicle and survive but if she could get him to slow down she might stand a chance. But what if they really were going to Patch and she'd just been overreacting? And then she thought of how he didn't like the fact that she'd texted someone, like he didn't want anyone to know where she was. Maybe he didn't want anyone to find her. She shivered at the thought.

She knew she had to alert someone to the danger she was in but the road had been mostly quiet except for a few cars that had passed by.

Moments later, she noticed headlights behind them. The car was matching Rixon's speed and had slowly caught up to them in the right lane. She put her face and hands to the window and mouthed the words "help me".

"They can't see you. The windows are tinted."

She turned around to look at him, nostrils flaring. She pushed the window control button on her door panel but the window didn't move, it didn't make a sound.

"That won't work. I control everything," he said smugly.

Her eyes darted to the control panel on his door which managed the electronics on all the doors. She reached over quickly, knowing exactly which button would turn off his central control, but he quickly slapped her hand away.

Frustrated and desperate, Marcie reached for the steering wheel and pulled it towards her. Rixon removed her hand and turned it in the opposite direction. She threw a punch at his face and when his hand came up in defence she pulled the wheel her way again. In the process, she pushed as many of the buttons and levers in that area as she could hoping it would attract the other driver's attention.

As the jeep swerved into the right lane, the other car accelerated to save itself from being slammed into. Marcie wouldn't let go of the wheel no matter how hard Rixon pulled at her fingers. She had to keep holding on with both hands. He unclenched one of her hands from the wheel and she found the opportunity to turn on the hazards and flash the headlights. Irritated, he slapped the back of his hand into her face, forcing her to let go of the wheel to hold her hands to her face.

As Rixon took control of the wheel again and deviated into the nearest turnoff, Marcie removed her hands from her face to look at them. Drops of blood formed a puddle in her palms. At first she was too shocked to feel anything, but then she tried to hold her nose in a way that would stop the bleeding and she felt immense pain all over her face.

She began crying, sharp breaths coming through her mouth and tears forming in her eyes. The inside of her top lip had been cut open from the impact and blood streamed over her teeth. The taste was revolting. She tried hard not to swallow any and pulled up her top to soak the blood from her face.

She took a sideways glance at the boy next to her and he looked back without remorse.


	75. Chapter 75: Superhero

**A/N:** I was pretty lazy this weekend so I'm sorry for the late update.

Thanks very much to: BelikovMazur; bookgirl98; IloveImpacts; SammiRichGurl; ArrowToTheHeart13; VampireAcademyObssessed; TomFeltonslovex3; girliegoose; and VarArSkarsgard. Your fanship keeps me going. Hugs all around!

* * *

**CHAPTER 75:**

"I'm hanging on the edge of the world.

I'm clutching to a string and my life is crumbling down

I need a superhero, someone to save me.

...

I need a superhero 'cause I am just a girl."

The Pretty Reckless (Superhero)

* * *

Hank burst through the door of the house party on Cliff Street, the noises and smells attacking him and quickly overwhelming his senses. Heads turned and eyes watched him as he scanned the immediate rooms for his daughter.

"Marcie Millar? Has anyone seen Marcie?" he asked the faces that stared at him. They didn't answer and he repeated, "Where is Marcie?"

A boy standing behind the couch pointed to the door behind him and replied, "I think I saw her in the backyard."

Hank charged forward, the sea of teens parting to guide him to the back door. He stepped out on to the porch and searched the surrounding area from his vantage point. Laughing in a circle of people, he spotted Liz and Bernadette, Marcie's friends. He trotted down the porch steps and paced up to them.

"Hi, Mr Millar," said Liz, getting up from her seat to meet him before he came to the group. "Are you looking for Marcie?"

"Yes. Where is she?"

"She _was_ sitting with us."

"So where is she now?"

"I'm not sure. I saw her talking to someone and then she went inside the house. She probably just got herself something to drink."

He grew concerned. "Who was she talking to?"

"Just a boy," she said, hoping not to get Marcie in trouble.

"What was his name?"

"Rixon."

Shock rocked through Hank's body. "Rixon was here?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?" she asked, confused, thinking maybe Marcie had had a go with her one-time date. There was nothing special between Liz and Rixon; she'd only known him a few minutes when he flirted with her at the bus stop one day. It was Marcie's idea to turn it into double date. But now Liz thought maybe Marcie had had the hots for Rixon all along and that maybe they'd disappeared into the house for a little one-on-one time. Otherwise, how could Mr Millar know who Rixon was unless Marcie had brought him home already?

"He's trouble. Stay away from him," said Hank and turned back to the house. He dialled Marcie's number, hoping he could find her and warn her but the machine simply told him her number was unavailable. He carried on searching the other rooms of the house asking, "Have you seen Marcie? Where is Marcie?" All he would get in response was a shrug or a shake of the head.

He returned to the front door just as someone came in and he quickly caught them by the arm. "Have you seen Marcie Millar? Has she left already?"

Not happy with the grip on his bicep and the intimidating size of the man questioning him, the boy answered, "Yeah. She left like ten minutes ago with a guy."

"What did he look like?" asked Hank.

"I don't know. It was dark."

Hank breathed then let go of the boy's arm. "Thank you," he said and left immediately to ring up Detective Basso.

"Yes?" answered Basso, car noises in the background.

"She's not at the party. Rixon was here and I think she left with him. She's not answering her phone but can we track it?" he said, anxiety in his voice.

"Yes. Give me the number."

"I'll send it to you now," said Hank and hung up the phone. He forwarded Marcie's number to Basso's mobile and waited. He walked to his car, which was parked in the middle of the road with its hazards blinking brightly, and waited some more.

He started the car, getting himself ready for when his phone rang seconds later. "Yes?"

"I've tracked her phone to route two-ninety-five. There's also been a nine-one-one call about reckless driving on the same route, west-bound. I think it could be them."

Hank's lip quivered for a moment as it dawned on him that his daughter's life was truly in danger and that he may not be able to save her. "All right. I'm on my way."

"According to the nine-one-one call, the vehicle was a black jeep and took exit twenty. We'll have to start searching from there."

"I'll keep in touch," said Hank and ended their call. His engine roared down the quiet street as he headed for the highway.

Meanwhile, Basso kept his foot on the gas as he speeded toward the highway in his unmarked car. He had no idea how much time Rixon had ahead of them or how quickly Hank would catch up, but he knew he had to close the distance between himself and Rixon if he had any chance of saving the girl's life and his own.

When he got on the highway, he increased his speed to eighty-five miles-an-hour and kept his eyes on the lookout for the exit Rixon had supposedly taken. Thankfully there were very few cars on the road which made the journey safer and quicker. Within ten minutes, at a constant speed, Basso saw the exit sign and slowed down slightly to turn into it cautiously.

The exit led to a small suburban neighbourhood and a lake on the outskirts. He drove up and down every street within the neighbourhood, not finding a single match of the description of the reported vehicle.

Once he'd searched the housing area, he found an intersection where the road split in opposite directions. He called up Hank. "What's your location?" he asked.

"About two minutes from the exit."

"Okay. The exit leads to a neighbourhood. I've already checked the residential area and found nothing. I'm at Pine Road but it splits in two from Grove Street. I'm turning right; when you get here, take the left so we can cover more ground."

"Sounds good to me. Call me the minute you find something," said Hank and hung up. The exit approached as timely as expected and Hank slowed down from his hundred-mile-an-hour speed to ease into the turn-off. His GPS led him to Pine Road where he turned left as instructed.

The landscape was dark with only street lamps to guide him. He passed a few small businesses – a fishing shop, a bar and a convenience store – and then the roadside became vacant of anything except trees and the street lamps. The lights grew further apart the longer he went until they weren't there anymore and all he could rely on were the headlights of his car and the navigation system on his windshield.

He drove slowly through the darkness, watching the road to keep him guided. There was nothing in the distance, nothing in the darkness and he wondered how long he'd have to drive till he found his daughter.

He glanced at his GPS which displayed two roads on the map, yet when he looked in front of him he saw only one road. He slowed down even further and turned slightly to the left where his headlights revealed a dirt road. He figured he'd cover every path down the long road he'd been travelling just to ensure he'd covered every possibility.

He took the path and his sports car jumped with every bump on the road. He stared into the distance hoping to see what was there because not even the map could identify what he was heading towards besides a large lake.

He decided he didn't want to take the chance that his car might not get off the road if it turned muddy the closer he got to the water, so he stopped his car and got out. He jogged along the path listening out for sounds and smells that could help him figure out the landscape, not without the help of a torch on his mobile phone.

Fifty yards away, the torch reflected light off a rectangular object. Upon approaching, Hank realised it was a white number plate belonging to a black jeep. He stared into the distance thinking the owner wouldn't be far but when he heard nothing in the remoteness, he turned his attention back to the vehicle for inspection.

His torch did not light up very much but it was enough to see where he was going as he walked around the car to the passenger's side. He tried to look into the car but the light bounced off the window and into his eyes. He couldn't see inside the car so he reverted to examining the outside where everything looked acceptable until he found blood smeared on the door handle.

He turned off the torch immediately and dialled Basso's number.

"Hello."

"I think I've found it."

* * *

**A/N:** Just a note about these directions/locations/street names... they are totally false and made up to suit the purpose of the story. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Haha!


	76. Chapter 76: Don't

**A/N:** Sorry for the late update. I was second-guessing the content of the chapters. But as a peace offering I am delivering two chapters to you, my lovely readers.

Thanks to: bookgirl98; IloveImpacts; ArrowToTheHeart13; nora-girl123; nora-girl123; VarArSkarsgard; Gaara''sWife**; **RenesmeeCarlie18; and superstarbirds. Glad to have new readers.

I found the link to see all the people who have added me to their alerts and as I scrolled through the list there were some unfamiliar names, either because those people have changed their display names since adding me to their alerts or I have completely not acknowledged them. I try my hardest to thank everyone so if I've missed you over the chapters, please let me know. Apologies in advanced.

Thanks for reading and enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 76:**

"I can understand all that you are;  
I can even take all that you're not.  
I can sympathize with all you want to be,  
But don't fuck me in front of me

I can even scores with the best of them;  
I can leave my innocence at bay.  
You can turn your back on my sincerity,  
But don't fuck me in front of me."

Rachael Yamagata (Don't)

* * *

Earlier that evening, at the pier after detective Basso had left the scene in a hurry and the pins-and-needles feeling Patch had been experiencing had worn off, Patch, Nora and Dabria were coming to terms with what had happened only moments before.

"I'm sorry I killed you," said Patch, his guilty eyes staring at Nora in wonder. "It was an accident."

She shuffled her shins along the sand to sit closer to him. When she was near enough he wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and she finished the job self-consciously. Every touch was strange for Patch; he didn't know whether it felt painful or simply overwhelming. Even though he'd been in his nephil's body before, and he could vaguely remember the experience, he knew it felt nothing like this.

He put a hand to the bloody tear in her top, afraid to touch her where the blade had cut her. He didn't want to hurt her again; he was so overcome with the thought of stabbing her in the first place that it made him feel sick inside.

She looked down at her blood-soaked shirt and lightly touched the spot the blood had come from to check how painful it would be, but she felt none. She parted the tear with two fingers and tried to find the gaping hole where the blade had entered her, but felt only the smoothness of her skin under the moist blood. Stunned, she looked up to Patch for answers.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"No," she gasped. "No. I feel fine." She looked perplexed as she tried recalling what happened after she was stabbed. It was all a blur but she hung on to anything she could remember. She felt weak, her body went into shock and then it was like she'd slipped into a black hole as the noises around her continued to play in the background as if they were so far in the distance. She felt like she was floating in space; no gravity, no pressure, no worries, no pain. She felt nothing. It was bliss. Floating in the darkness, she was content.

Until suddenly she was plucked from paradise, the strings of gravity cut and she found herself falling through the abyss, finally landing at the bottom and waking up on the beach.

She threw her arms around Patch, the tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn't believe she wasn't dead. Patch put his arms around her, one hand running over her ponytail and gathering it to his face. He breathed in.

Suddenly realising, Nora snapped back to reality. "Are you smelling my hair?"

"Mmm... yes," he moaned with pleasure and inhaled once again. "It smells so good." Then he pulled his head back a little and covered her mouth with his, letting his tongue glide in. He could feel the texture of her tongue and the softness of her lips – he even tasted a hint of blood but it didn't bother him. He could feel!

He smiled as his lips still pressed against hers, and she felt it. She opened her eyes as their kiss broke and found him on the edge of laughter.

"Are you okay?" she pondered.

"Yes," he answered, holding her face in his hands. "Before, I could only see and hear you, but now I can touch, smell and taste you." And he kissed her deeply once more. "This must be what being human _feels_ like. I kind of remember; memory's a little foggy."

Nora paused, taking time to process what he was saying. "No..."

"Yes!"

"No..."

"No?" Patch began to doubt.

"But how?" asked Nora. "I thought... Chauncey's dead. How is this possible?"

"I have no fucking idea!" interjected Dabria from under the darkness of the pier. "Someone must be lying to all of us. The Book Of Enoch clearly states that a fallen angel with a nephil must sacrifice its nephil's female descendant to become human. When the sacrifice dies, the nephil dies... But your nephil is already dead! How can you be human if you're missing an ingredient?"

Patch shrugged. He wasn't the expert after all, but he knew he felt strange. He could feel. Period. He was obviously no longer a Holy being. He was sure of it. But there was one more test. "Dabria, illuminate. Show me your wings. Humans can't see spiritual matter."

Dabria looked over her shoulder to the newly grown wings that had replaced her old broken and jagged ones. She felt the change of energy inside her, the way she'd always felt after every promotion up the ranks. But this time she didn't feel as if she'd gained more power, she felt like she'd lost some. By saving Nora's life, she'd become a guardian. She felt a little empty inside, like a deflated balloon. She had held so much power before she messed with the balance of life and death in the human world. Saving a life was still regarded as a good deed but for tampering in the human world, an angel's punishment was to be stuck with that soul, guarding it until the angel wasn't needed. A nanny of the angel world.

The guardian's wings displayed themselves at either side of her and she looked back at Patch. "Don't tell me you don't see them!" she hissed and spread them further out till they touched the underside of the pier.

"Show me," he asked.

Dabria glowed with intensity. She was mad. Mad at Patch for killing Nora; mad at Nora for dying; mad at herself for trying to save her; and mad that she'd been demoted to Guardian angel. She was also mad that Patch couldn't see her energy because either she was too weak now or because Patch was seeing the world through human eyes. And if Patch was human that meant she had lost him forever.

Patch watched Dabria carefully as her expression changed to one of great effort, without him seeing any result of her attempt. He gazed at Nora who was looking to the side at Dabria who then began hovering. Still, Patch saw no light radiating from the angel, only the effect of her body hanging in the air.

"What do you see, Nora?" asked Patch.

She looked back at him and replied with amazement, "She's flying."

"Do you see anything around her?"

"No. It's too dark under the pier. What do you see?"

"The same. I should be able to see an aura around her."

"And my wings! I have new wings now!" Dabria shouted, needing acknowledgement.

"I don't see them. I don't see any of it," said Patch. Dabria groaned, then dropped to the sand and hid her energy within her human shell.

Nora looked at Patch with new eyes and took his hand. She thought of what this meant for them. Being human not only meant that he could experience her world fully, being human also meant Patch was free of his duty and the angel laws which stood in the way of their love. It meant no more secret meetings and no more guarding Marcie. Finally, some normalcy.

She kissed him again but he jumped in his seat when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He stood up and held the device curiously, not because he didn't know how to operate it but because he was being reacquainted with the feel of it. The plastic covering on the back, the glass screen in front and the round buttons below that.

He unlocked the phone to find a new message from Marcie. Nora rolled her eyes when she stole a peek. He read the message twice, looking puzzled, as if he'd missed something.

"What?" asked Nora, noticing this.

"It's from Marcie," he said and handed the phone to her.

She'd never held his phone before. She felt touched that he would let her read his text messages. Phones were private in her world. She quickly pushed that thought to the side and read the message: _y get rixon 2 pick me up?_

She looked up at him and handed back the phone. "So what's wrong?"

"I never told anyone to pick her up. She's my responsibility."

"_Was_," said Nora. "She _was_ your responsibility."

"Fine. But why would she think I sent him to pick her up? Did he just tell her that? Why would he tell her that?" Patch worried for Marcie's sake. Why would someone lie to her just to give her a lift? What was this guy's intention?

"Don't tell me you're worried," said Nora. "Rixon's a good guy. You guys are best buds."

"What?" a surprised Patch asked.

"Yeah, you two go way back. He's a fallen angel just like you were. And you two used to hang out at Bo's Arcade all the time. Maybe you don't remember him so well since, you know..."

"I've only met him twice. Once when he offered me a lift home, the other on a group outing when Liz brought him along."

"But he told me that he spoke to you at the bar one night and you guys were talking like nothing changed except for the fact that you couldn't remember me."

Patch paused, piecing together fragments of the story and realising there was a reason that so many other pieces were missing. "Nora... do you know who Rixon's nephil is?"

"No," she shook her head. "Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"When Detective Basso was here, on the phone he said someone was hanging around here and knew about _him_. He said the guy was Irish and that he was probably after someone's daughter."

"So if Marcie's with Rixon right now, do you think she's the daughter they were talking about?"

Patch raised his brow in confirmation.

"Yes," said Dabria, standing solemnly in the shadows. "Hank Millar is Rixon's nephil. I saw it with my own eyes."

"When?" asked Patch.

"When Rixon killed Harrison Grey, he was with Hank Millar," replied Dabria.

"What?" stuttered Nora at the sound of her dead father's name.

"When I was still a Death angel, part of my duty was to escort souls to the afterlife. When your dad died, Nora, I found Rixon standing over him with a gun in his hand... And then Rixon said to Hank, 'I'll make you wish you never plead fealty to me.'"

Nora, in shock, stood still as the tears and thoughts erupted from her. She felt sick as she remembered the time she'd once hugged Rixon as he consoled her, knowing now that he was the one who'd murdered her father. She felt guilty knowing that Vee had fallen for him, not knowing how much he'd betrayed Nora and Patch. He'd lied to everyone!

All this time, thought Patch to himself, he had a feeling someone was out to get Marcie and he couldn't figure out who. Rixon had slipped past undetected. All this time, it was him trying to harm her. "He wants to perform the sacrifice."

"So he's going to kill Marcie too?" Nora whispered as the tears rolled down her face. She didn't like Marcie but Rixon was the enemy. He was a murderer, destroying lives.

Patch took hold of Nora in his arms and turned to Dabria. "We have to save her."

"We don't even know where she is," said Dabria.

Patch said, "You have to become her guardian."


	77. Chapter 77: Mr Writer

**CHAPTER 77:**

"Mr Writer, why don't you tell it like it is?  
Why don't you tell it like it really is?"

Stereophonics (Mr Writer)

* * *

Forty-five yards from the black jeep parked off-road, Hank found Rixon and Marcie in an old fishing shack. Inside, it was dark but Hank could see his daughter through the open door, wrapped in a fishing net and hung from the ceiling by a fish hook.

Hank hid behind a great tree trunk and tall shrubbery, waiting for the other half of his search party to arrive. He was generally an impatient man, but when he saw his daughter trapped like an animal, he felt his patience wear thin. He wanted to attack Rixon and set his daughter free but he knew from past experience that he was no match for the fallen angel. He had to wait for Ecanus.

Rixon stood in front of Marcie as she squirmed in the net. She knew there was no use in struggling but she couldn't give up, because once she did, he would've won.

Rixon simply watched her, but in his mind he was feeding her terrifying thoughts of the different ways that he could kill her – strangulation, multiple stabs, bleeding to death, drowning, deadly assault – because tonight she was definitely going to die, he just had to make her wish she was dead.

He also thought the inside of the shack was a great aid to his gift, a nightmarish sight of cobwebs, fish carcasses and broken pieces of wood he could so easily let her fall into. She screamed as he passed the thought to her.

Hank tensed at the shrieks. He checked his watch hoping that enough time had passed since calling Basso. It had only been ten minutes but it felt longer. Surely this area wasn't big enough for Basso to have wandered too far. Unless he'd taken a long, dark road like Hank had.

Rixon displayed the sharpness of his blade in the moonlight and an excruciating scream escaped Marcie, which made Hank more alert to the urgency of rescuing her. He put his hands to the ground and felt for a stone in the darkness. He found one with a good weight for its size and tossed it into the bushes on the other side of the shack. He saw Rixon take note of it when his head twitched in the direction of the noise, but he didn't follow it the way Hank had planned.

He searched for a bigger rock and found one the size of his palm. Still hunched behind the tree, he leaned back and propelled the stone in the same direction as the previous one. The larger stone knocked the trunk of a tree and fell into some bushes, making more noise than the first attempt. Rixon stepped out of the old hut, walked across the porch and into the shrubbery surrounding the back part of the shack.

Hank saw his opportunity to sneak quickly into the door which was only about ten yards from his hiding spot. Marcie let out another cry as she thought of Rixon leaving her to starve then letting the wild animals eat her remains.

Her dad took large steps to minimise his noise on to the porch and into the cabin. Marcie's eyes were shut as she cried softly to herself. Hank's heart wept for his daughter but he remained focused on saving her. His heart pounded in his chest as he worked quietly to unhook the net from the ceiling and carry her to the door.

Finally in his arms, he turned around and stepped carefully again on to the porch when he was suddenly hit hard in the face, the effect of which caused him to lose his balance and fall with his daughter on top of him. His brain rattled inside his skull as he tried to make sense of the scene.

He felt the weight of Marcie being lifted off him and when his vision became clearer, he saw Rixon walking across the porch with her – still in the net – slung over his shoulder.

Hank got to his feet with urgency and begged Rixon to stop, who, at the edge of the porch built over the water, turned around and dumped Marcie next to him. "Since when have I ever listened to you?" asked Rixon.

"Please, Rixon! Please, don't hurt her."

"What do you take me for? A monster? It'll be painless, I promise," he smirked. Marcie cried in response.

"No!" shouted Hank, and then he started to beg. "What do you want? Please, just tell me what you want."

"I told you to give me your daughter when she turned sixteen and you refused. So I'm _taking_ her without your permission this time."

"But you could've taken her so many times. So many times she was unguarded. Why now?"

"The prototype was still being tested. When it failed, I couldn't risk losing you, Barnabus," he said with fake concern. "But it works now. I saw it with my own eyes tonight."

Hank had known the plan ever since the night Rixon had come looking for his daughter. The same night he'd killed Hank's best friend, Harrison, for trying to interfere. Hank knew that Rixon was completely confident in his decision to sacrifice Marcie and become human. There was only one problem...

"It won't work," said Hank.

"Why? I can never be human because I'll always be a _monster_ inside?" he taunted.

"No."

"Then what is it? Why will it not work?"

The words hung in his mouth. He didn't want to say them, he wished he'd never have to say them.

"Tell me," hissed Rixon, stroking his knife over the net to illustrate his seriousness.

"She's not my daughter!" he blurted out.

"Daddy!" cried Marcie.

"This is news to us both, darling," said Rixon, patting the girl's head. He put his arm around her shoulders then said with brutal intensity, "Why don't you repeat that and this time, tell the truth because I am not lying when I say I'm going to kill her!"

"No! It's true! It's true!" he yelled, stumbling forward to protect his daughter instinctively.

"Come on, Barnabus, I already know that Nora was your daughter. I'd be surprised if you didn't have more."

Marcie and Hank's eyes widened in shock and surprise, respectively. "What?" shouted Marcie.

"Oh, yes, dear. Your mortal enemy was also your sister! Isn't that something?"

Marcie, dumbfounded, looked to her father for answers.

"It's not true, Marcie," he reassured her, reaching out a hand.

"It's true, Marcie," Rixon whispered menacingly in her ear. "I found papers for her trust fund signed by your daddy."

"Daddy?" she cried.

"Baby, don't listen to him."

"Stop lying!" she shouted. "I know about you two going around behind mommy's back! I've known it all along! How could you do this to her? How could you do this to me?" she cried, the years of built-up rage lashing out at him all at once. She had no idea how far his betrayal had been rooted and the revelation had been devastating.

"I can explain it... another time," he said, calmly.

"No, you won't," said Rixon. "She dies tonight." And the blade ran along her abdomen.

"No! She's not my daughter! Not by blood!"

Rixon's head shot up. "What?"

Marcie's stomach sank. Her own father, disowning her after all she'd done to protect him. Right then, she wished she had never been born. She wished she was dead.

"You're right about Nora. I forced her to grow up separately from me to protect her from you," Hank explained. "Marcie is not related to me. I married her mother when she was pregnant with her. I was there when she was born and my name is on the birth certificate but she is not mine by blood. Killing her is no benefit to you."

Rixon, feeling outsmarted and outdone once again in his plot to become a Legend, resorted to the one thing which gave him the most satisfaction – inflicting pain on his nephil.

"But it is," he said, countering Barnabus's last statement and pushed the girl off the porch, and she splashed into the dark, icy waters. Hank rushed to jump in but Rixon stopped him by the throat and punched him in the stomach. He grabbed him by the head and kneed him in the jaw then shoved him backwards on to the floor. The man squirmed on the deck and Rixon simply laughed. "Pathetic," he spat and walked away.

While Hank tried to get his breath back, his daughter was sinking, struggling to free herself from the net. Unable to get to his feet, he rolled into the laked and swam to the spot where the water bubbled. He felt the depths with his feet, and when he found nothing he took in a deep breath and dove under, blindly grasping for any hope.


	78. Chapter 78: Devil

**A/N: **We're nearing the end. This is the penultimate installment so next week will be the end. Apologies for this short chapter. It's just how it goes.

Thanks to: bookgirl98; Gaara''sWife; superstarbirds; ArrowToTheHeart13; ShadowhuntingAngel; LoveWillLiveOn4ever; and razau.

* * *

**CHAPTER 78:**

"Should the birds fall to the ground and the fish die of thirst,

Would we still keep on living the way it's always been?

...

There is one thing... that will never change is that we're only learning to survive.

Devil, oh, devil. Why don't you tell me why

I'm a slave in these desperate times?"

Beast (Devil)

* * *

Leaving the scene of the crime, Rixon thought of his next move. His plan was ruined. Nora was dead, Marcie wasn't even an option and Barnabus had no other descendants. Then again, Barnabus could've kept that a secret too, just like he'd kept Nora a secret. Perhaps Rixon would channel his energy into finding a secret descendant or force one out of his nephil.

Oh well, Rixon just had to keep himself busy till Cheshvan came around. That's when he had the most fun. And he could really use a little fun after so much disappointment. Barnabus would not die tonight, he couldn't. That was the great thing about nephilim; you could beat them up within an inch of their life but they would never die. It was quite fun for Rixon, especially when he didn't get his way.

Not too far in the distance, he heard footsteps running towards him. Thinking it was a witness or some kind of police authority, he thought to run. Before he could escape, the shadow revealed itself several feet in front of him.

Rixon composed himself. "Detective, I'm so glad you're here. There are two people drowning in the lake. Please help them," he said, feigning desperation.

Detective Basso, hearing splashing in the distance and believing Rixon, contemplated saving those in the water or stopping the nefarious fallen angel. He couldn't do both. If he saved the others, Rixon would get away. If he dealt with Rixon first, it might be too late to save the others. He had to make the hard choice.

Just then, he saw a bright ball of light shoot across the sky and into the lake. An angel. He focused his gaze back on Rixon and said, "They can wait. You first."

Muscles tensed and with great effort, Basso focused all of the energy inside him and let it grow so that he slowly became fully illuminated. After being dormant for so long, his wings rose out from their human tomb and stretched to the heavens. He enjoyed the power humming inside him, the power he had forced to stay concealed for over two millennia. He was free.

While the transformation took place, Rixon took his chance and ran. He jumped over bushes and stones as fast as his human legs could take him before he was suddenly pulled back and into the air. Basso, hovering above the ground, had stuck his hand deep into the back of Rixon's chest and extracted his soul from the body. The corpse fell to the ground and the dim glowing essence of Rixon disappeared from Basso's hand as he sent it to hell.

Just like that, Ecanus had ended the night of terror but he needed a moment longer in his Holy form. He'd missed it, missed the power, missed the freedom. Since running away from the Holy Realm, revealing himself was never an option but if he'd known any other way to stop Rixon from getting away, he would've done it.

On the far side of the fishing shack, two bodies were being dragged on to the shore by Dabria, radiant and shining. While Hank coughed up water, Dabria filled her lungs with oxygen (since her own lungs never required it) and blew it into Marcie's mouth. She couldn't let the girl die now that she was her guardian or it would be the end of them both.

A moment later, water ran out of Marcie's mouth and she turned over to spit the rest out. Hank crawled up to her as she coughed the last drops out, then helped her sit up and rubbed her back as she gathered herself. When she appeared fine, except for being slightly dazed, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tightly. He might not have been her father by blood but he'd loved her all the same. Marcie, in response, placed her hands on his back and took comfort in knowing she very nearly died that night but was saved._ Someone_ thought she was worth saving. She didn't know yet if she appreciated it.

Basso walked up to the trio, his energy concealed once again, to check on them. "Are you okay?"

Hank turned around and nodded, not letting go of his daughter. "Where's Rixon?"

"Taken care of," said Basso, soberly, then looked at Dabria still glowing at the girl's side.

She noticed his gaze on her and quickly turned off the aura around her. "I just heard shouting and came as quickly-"

"Don't worry. I understand," he interjected. "I'm glad you made it in time."

"I-" She lost her words and Basso simply shook her hand, looking her carefully in the eyes.

The worst part of the night was over – the instigator had been taken care of and everyone was safe – but the aftershocks were still to come. The aftermath of the night's revelations would require homes to be rebuilt and the missing fragments of lives pieced back together.


	79. Chapter 79: Forget me not

**A/N:** Finally we have reached the end of my story. I apologise for not having it ready sooner but endings are really difficult. It was quite an effort to pull all the strings together so I've done it over two chapters. Hope you enjoy.

Thanks to: ArrowToTheHeart13; Bnb795627; SammiRichGurl; haffy raza; and MssBiPolar.

* * *

**CHAPTER 79:**

"Isn't it a shame that the timing's all wrong?

...

Well I believe in fate, it had to happen this way.

But it always leaves me wondering whether,

In another life we'd be together.

We should feel lucky we can say,

We've always got yesterday.

And as I leave it all behind,

You're still emblazoned in my mind.

And for that very special day,

Nobody loved me in that way.

Forget me not, I ask of you

Wherever your life takes you to

And if we never meet again

Think of me every now and then."

Lucie Silvas (Forget Me Not)

* * *

Life was never the same after that night.

For one, in questioning Mr Millar about my dad's murder I also found out that my dad wasn't my real dad; Mr Millar is. He and my mom sat me down for a long talk to explain everything and it turned out there were secrets about Mr Millar that not even my mom knew. So let me tell you the story from the beginning.

Mr Millar and my mom were lovers before I was even conceived and he broke up with her when she wouldn't abort her pregnancy. He decided he couldn't tell her that he was really an immortal nephil, that any offspring were a danger to his life and that that was the real reason he didn't want kids, ever.

But he never intended to totally abandon us. He managed to convince my dad, Harrison who was also his best friend, to look after my mom while he disappeared to Richmond where he actually met Marcie's mom who had just lost her boyfriend in a car accident. They'd been dating for a few months before she even started showing signs of being pregnant. Her gynaecologist confirmed that she'd conceived before she'd even met Mr Millar, a point which he was very relieved to know.

Round about the same time, my dad told Mr Millar that he and my mom had fallen in love and were getting married. Mr Millar gave his blessing because he preferred my mom be happy and I be safe from him. He also asked my dad to raise me as his own and never tell anyone of his paternity. Because of that, Mr Millar thought it would be best to move on with his life and he kind of warmed to the idea of having a child without the danger of it being related to him. So he married Marcie's mom and raised Marcie as his own, also agreeing never to tell her the truth of her own father.

We'd lived in Coldwater all my life, but the Millars moved here after Mrs Millar got a promotion and Mr Millar convinced her that buying a house in Coldwater had more benefits than buying one in Portland. Apparently his decision was actually based on the fact that he wanted to watch over our family, watch me grow up from afar.

The night my dad died he'd gone to the park to meet with Mr Millar who told him our family had to move because he'd heard that Rixon, the fallen angel he'd been bonded to, had been asking around town for him. Mr Millar had left Richmond without Rixon knowing it and had managed to avoid him for fifteen years till that night.

My dad had already left the meeting point to go home while Mr Millar waited. Just as he was about to leave, he was shot in the back by Rixon who was angered by Mr Millar's disobedience. My dad had heard the gunshot and ran back to find Mr Millar being further assaulted by Rixon. Because he didn't know who Rixon was, my dad attempted to intervene in the fight and that's when he was shot by Rixon.

Since Mr Millar was immortal and his own identity and background was shoddy at best, he couldn't afford to include himself in a murder case. So he made an anonymous 911 call and the police tagged it as a mugging-gone-wrong. Mr Millar said he couldn't tell my mom the truth about my dad's death because he thought she would never forgive him.

As penance, Mr Millar dedicated his time to our family. Not only did he pay for the funeral, he arranged everything while she dealt with her grief. I remember those days following his death when she couldn't even get out of bed or when she did, she couldn't stand. She crawled around due to the weakness in her limbs because she didn't sleep properly either. Mr Millar was there to help her get through it. And that's when the affair started.

They all thought they were doing what was best for Marcie and I. They thought we'd have an identity crisis or fall into depression if we ever knew who our real parents were. Apparently you can never know your parents well enough, even the ones you've lived with all your life.

"Patch!"

The name pulled me back to the present, three months since that night at the beach.

"Ha! Ha! I knew that would get your attention. You're such a sucker!" Vee laughed in her styling chair as the hairstylist was finishing off her blow-wave. The noise consistency had aided my slipping into daydreaming while Vee got her new hairstyle.

"There we go," said the lady stylist, neatening the ends of Vee's short bob.

"You look so hot!" I smiled with excitement at her transformation. I'd been so used to her long hair that when she told me she wanted to go short, I couldn't even imagine it. But now that I'd seen it on her, the short hair looked really great. "You look like an assassin."

She turned on the antics at that comment then thanked me. She got her coat and handbag and paid at the front desk, but not before thanking her stylist for the great work.

"It looks gorgeous. Elliot's going to love it," I told her, admiring it from the side as we walked to her car.

"I didn't do this for him," she argued.

"I know. But he's one lucky guy. I wish I was your date to the winter formal!"

"It's too late now, babe. You should've told me earlier when I was looking for a date and Elliot was the only one available."

"He was not. There were plenty others," I protested.

"I hope you're not talking about the freshmen. No girl goes with a guy that's younger than she is. It's illegal."

I laughed. "What about Luke?"

"I'd rather go with a freshman."

"Why? 'Cause he's a _nerd_?" I said the word with slight contempt.

"No. I have nothing against his mathematical genius. But I think he's more interested in building glue-stick inventions with Carlisle than he is trying to socialise with a girl."

"Fair enough," I said, just as we made it to the car.

The first minute was silent as Vee pulled out of her parking spot and drove for the next traffic light.

I'd told her about everything that happened – about Patch and Rixon, Jules and Elliot, my parents and Marcie's parents – two weeks after the incident at the beach. Despite my wanting to protect Vee against the truth about Rixon, I realised she deserved to know it anyway. After my parents' secrets were revealed to me I realised how one lie can snowball into a lifetime of lies and I didn't want that with Vee. I figured that since she was involved in Rixon and Chauncey's plots to harm others, she earned the right to know the truth.

Knowing everything had its disadvantages. She began second-guessing everything she was told and thought any guy who came up to her had a secret agenda. Patch had to remind her that it was no secret when it came to boys; their secret agenda was sex. It became clear to Vee that the only boys she could trust were Patch and Elliot, especially since Detective Basso cleared Elliot's name in Kjirsten's murder case, instead linking it to Jules and making it stick.

But even knowing that Elliot was a good apple and that he too was a pawn in the nephil/fallen angel game, Vee could never admit to herself that she might actually like Elliot. It had been obvious to me all along but when she'd asked him to be her date to the school dance, I knew she was finally getting there.

"I bet Elliot's going to look good tonight," I said, stirring the pot.

"He better. I put in all this effort," she said, smoothing down her hair.

"'Cause you like him!" I teased.

"I don't!"

"Oh, please! Don't deny it. He's a hottie. I know your criteria."

She laughed but had no comeback, until a few seconds later when she asked, "Would it be weird if I did like him?"

"Why would it be weird? He's a likeable guy."

"I mean, isn't there an unwritten rule about liking your best friend's ex?" she asked, struggling a bit.

"He's not my ex."

"You dated."

"No. We never went on any dates, technically," I stated.

"So it wouldn't be weird if, say... Elliot and I started dating?"

"Vee, I've died twice; my boyfriend was a fallen angel trying to kill me who then saved me and became my guardian angel, then killed me and became human; my dad was murdered by your ex-boyfriend; and my real dad is nephilim and the adoptive father of my arch enemy. Believe me, you dating Elliot, who I used to hold hands with, is not weird for anyone."

"Good point," she agreed. And in the next breath she added, "You do realise that sounds worse than a Jerry Spinger episode, right?"

Twenty minutes later, Vee pulled into my driveway where I spotted a familiar sports car parked next to the house.

"Looks like you've got company," said Vee.

"Yep," I sighed. "Care to join us?"

"Nope, sorry babe. I've got things to do before tonight," she explained.

We said our goodbyes and I got out of the car. As she drove off, I turned around to face the house and my mom and Mr Millar.

Since revealing everything to me and my mom, Mr Millar decided to tell his family the truth as well. Of course Mrs Millar proposed family counselling but Mr Millar would not go to anyone except the shrink from his underground nephilim network. His family situation was too delicate to allow just anybody into the circle.

Mr Millar wanted to salvage the remains of his family. In truth, he did love them despite the cover up and the affair. But when Detective Basso explained to Mr Millar how the mortality ritual worked and that Mr Millar was no longer immortal, he chose differently. He chose to live the remainder of his mortal life with the woman he truly loved – Blythe.

So now they're kind of dating, I think. He divorced his wife and moved into his own place, and visits both his families because in his mind Marcie is just as much his daughter as I am.

Even considering that we are related and that my mother loves him – even though it took her several weeks to forgive him for all the lies and come to terms with the danger it put me in – I still find our get-togethers awkward. I struggle to find anything to talk about and when I do, I get a little angry inside. Not only about his decision to keep everything from us or the fact that he was part of the cause of my father's murder. I was mad that he was trying to step in at this stage of the game; trying to regain the family he gave up; trying to step in as my father when I'd already had one, a really good one.

But I would tolerate him. That was how my dad raised me.

I composed myself and stepped through the front door to a kitchen buzzing with the radio on a jazz station, my mom tossing a salad and Mr Millar uncorking the wine. He smiled and greeted, "Hello, Nora."

"Hi, Mr Millar," I replied politely. "When did you get here?"

"Only ten minutes ago. I brought some wine for lunch," he said, removing two wine glasses from the cabinet. "And apple juice for you." He smiled.

I didn't yet know if he did that as a way of sucking up to me or if he was just being nice. But I did love apple juice, so I smiled and thanked him.

As we sat down for lunch at the table, instead of the couch which my mom and I had become accustomed to, I appreciated that there was one less chair vacant. It had been a while since three people sat at our dining table.

After an uncomfortable silence, I gobbled up a mouthful of mash from my fork after asking, "Are you two dating now?"

The two adults looked at each other coyly before my mom quickly responded, "No."

"Well," added Mr Millar, "we've decided once my divorce goes through that we would like to take things slowly. How do you feel about that?"

Why were they acting like they cared what I thought now? I swallowed the last bit of mash and replied, "Why should it matter? You two have obviously done way more than 'just dating'."

"Nora!" my mother reprimanded.

"I'm not judging you. I just don't know why you're asking me. You didn't ask for my approval before. I wouldn't ask you if it was okay for _me_ to date Patch." I'd become a tad more liberal with my comments since the big revelation and felt I could be more open.

Before my mom could remark, Mr Millar asked, "Is that your way of saying you're okay with us dating, Nora?"

I shrugged. I wasn't sure what I was saying or feeling. I didn't know if I could let go of this anger and move on. I didn't know if I could let go of my father, even though I'd accepted his death a long time ago. I never imagined my mom with anyone other than my dad. That's all I'd ever known. I never thought I'd have to get used to anyone else being with her.

And then I started thinking of Vee and her short bob, how I couldn't imagine her hair any other way than long. But once she'd presented me with the new look, I really liked it. Maybe, in the same way, I would like having Mr Millar around. And then I felt sort of stupid for comparing a new parent to a new haircut. They're so obviously not even on the same level.

I stared at my pork chop with my fork stuck in it and took it out. Maybe it wasn't about letting go of the person I'd always known as 'dad'. Maybe it was about making space for someone new, someone who loves my mother and who she loves back. Who was I to stand in the way of that? I could sort of relate when it came to Patch and I, and the archangels who stood in the way of our love.

I think I was more concerned about being a hypocrite than a snotty little brat who didn't like mommy's new boyfriend, and that's why I finally said to them, "Yeah. That's okay." They weren't the easiest words to say, but I felt like I had to pay it forward after everything that had happened.

In the next minute, my mom changed the conversation to something more light-hearted. "Are you excited about the dance tonight?" asked my mom, cutting off a piece of steak on her plate.

I smiled genuinely and nodded. It was the first dance I was going to with a date, and not just any date. Patch was my date. I tried to imagine how handsome he'd look in a tux and reminded myself not to expect anything out of the ordinary since he'd probably stick to a black suit.

"When does it start?" asked Mr Millar.

"Six," I said.

"Before you leave we should take a few pictures," suggested my mom.

"Heck yeah! That dress is so beautiful, it deserves to be documented," I stated.

After lunch, we cleared the table and washed the dishes. Imagine that. The three of us taking care of the house, doing things together. I'd been used to my mom and I taking turns to cook or wash dishes but we hardly ever did them together. Were they trying to make me see the benefits of having Mr Millar around?

When the kitchen was clean, he and my mom took two glasses of hot-chocolate and a blanket to the bench outside while I took a bath upstairs in preparation for my special night.

I soaked in the vanilla-scented bubble bath while fantasising about the night ahead. I imagined how much fun it would be to dance slowly in Patch's arms, how beautiful Vee and I would look in our sparkling dresses and all the memories we'd be taking from that night.

After a good forty-five minutes I got out and wrapped a towel around myself, just then hearing some giggling outside. I peered through the window and looked down to my mom and Mr Millar on the bench under the tree; his arm gently around her while she leaned into his side. They'd just shared a joke and clinked their mugs together, and slowly they joined lips. It was like a car crash, I couldn't look away. Believe me, I wanted to. I'd never even seen my parents kiss like that. At most it had been a peck on the lips but what I'd just seen with my mom and Mr Millar, was too saucy.

I pulled my eyes away and turned away from the window. I tried to convince myself that my mother kissed my father that way; that years and years of being together turned steamy kisses into minor pecks and that the true measure of their love was that they'd stayed together and sacrificed so much to be a family and raise me. I held on to that.

I towelled my hair before using the hair-dryer which puffed out my curls and left me with a Diana Ross 'fro. I slipped on casual clothes and went downstairs to get my mom to help me with my hair.

I pushed open the front door and called for her, "Mom!" When I had her attention I continued, "Can you help me straighten my hair?"

The two of them got up with their mugs and blanket and came into the house, chuckling at the sight of me.

"Don't laugh," I warned them. "She looks just like this, so you better get used to it," I told Mr Millar as I pointed at my mom.

My mom set down their mugs on the kitchen counter and gestured to the staircase. As I went up I heard her tell him, "It'll probably take an hour."

"Should I go?"

"No, stay. Make yourself at home."

I grimaced. Technically, he was still a stranger. Not even my best friend makes herself at home in my house!

Finally we settled down in my room – me in a comfy armchair and my mother standing behind me as she blow-waved her way through sections of my hair – when suddenly she said, "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, seeing no logical connection to anything we'd been talking about.

"For giving us your blessing," she said, combing out a section.

"Oh," I said, my enthusiasm quickly dimming.

"I don't want you to think I didn't love Harrison. I was a mess when he died, you know that."

"I know," I said, feeling a stone in my throat.

"I know you still think of him as your father... but isn't it great knowing you have a biological father who's alive?"

"Alive because he was immortal," I pointed out.

"Yes," she sighed and I could tell she was still baffled by the idea. "Hank doesn't expect you to call him dad, not ever. He really respects Harrison's time with you, but he still really wants to try to be a part of our lives from now on."

I didn't say anything to that. She let it simmer in my mind while she turned on the hair-dryer and blasted heat on to the roller brush. When she reached the end, she turned off the dryer and continued when I said nothing more.

"It's difficult for everyone, for him and his family and for us. He still wants to be in Marcie's life and he wants to be in yours too. And we want to take it slowly. He won't be moving in anytime soon, you can be sure of that."

"Good," I said.

She loosened another section from the grasp of a hairclip, parted it in two and clipped one half back to my head. "Or sleeping over."

I raised a brow. I didn't even want to think of them getting saucier than their kiss earlier.

"Mom."

"Yes?" she replied sweetly.

"Did..." I took a breath and caught my words again. "Did you really love them both? At the same time?"

She was silent for a thoughtful moment. "Yes, I loved them both."

"Even when daddy was still in the picture?" I pressed, not pleased with her answer.

She paused before answering, "Yes." I let go of the breath I'd been holding. She continued, "Hank was the first serious relationship I had. I'd fallen in love before but with him, it was something deeper. When you're dad came along he was everything right that I needed to get over Hank."

"So daddy was a rebound?"

"I don't like that word but yes, at first. He made everything better and I fell in love with his goodness." She stopped and sniffled.

"Are you crying?" I asked, still facing away from her.

"I'm fine."

"I miss him," I said, interpreting her tears.

"Me too," she said, running her fingers through my hair. "I have so many beautiful memories of us as a family, of you and your father at the beach when you were little and when he took you to your first day of school. When I look at you I remember him. But if I look a little bit longer I see Hank's eyes when you laugh just the way he does." I covered the smile I didn't realise I had. "I see them both in you."

I cleared my throat, trying to ask the question I really wanted to know the answer to. "So what would've happened if daddy had still been in the picture?"

"We'd be celebrating our anniversary next month."

"So you would've stayed with him?"

"Of course. I loved him. I wanted to grow old with him," she said, twisting my curly hair to pin it to my head. "One day, when you've been in love you will understand."

It was then that I finally understood my mother's decision since it rang clearly in my mind that I'd been down a similar path with Elliot and Patch. I tried to imagine my mother at my age, trying to choose between the boy she loved and the one who fixed her up after the first one broke her heart. If Patch had remained an obvious no-go zone, I could've moved on with Elliot, not to say we'd have gotten married and popped out kids. But I could've fallen in love with him, with time. That was the problem though, I'd loved Patch all along even when Elliot was there, the same way my mother had never stopped loving Mr Millar.


	80. Chapter 80: Shake it out

**CHAPTER 80:**

"Regrets collect like old friends,  
Here to relive your darkest moments.

And all of the ghouls come out to play.  
And every demon wants his pound of flesh.

And I've been a fool and I've been blind.  
I can never leave the past behind.

It's hard to dance with a devil on your back,  
So shake him off.

It's always darkest before the dawn."

Florence + The Machine (Shake It Out)

* * *

One exhausting hour later, after my hair had been straightened and two small braids from my forehead neatly crowned my head, I brushed on the lightest shade of gold eye shadow and lightly coated my lashes with black mascara. I knew Patch preferred the natural look so I only I dabbed on a pink rose-coloured lipstick to give my lips some colour for the inescapable photos of the night.

Then I slipped on my dress, a sea-foam green halter-neck that hugged my bodice and floated around my legs all the way to the floor. Then I stepped into my white heels which had no straps or buckles but instead bandaged comfortably around my feet. They were the most comfortable set of heels I'd ever dared to wear.

As I stood in front of the mirror, adoring my glossy straight hair and fabulous dress, I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

"Can I come in?" said my mom's voice and I confirmed, looking back at her when she came through the door. "Oh, wow!" She gasped.

I smiled. "I love this dress and the shoes and my hair. Thank you, mommy."

She smiled back. "You're welcome." And then she stood behind me, taking in the beauty of the outfit and suggested one more item to complete the look.

She left the room and returned half a minute later with a pearl-infused bangle. I was in awe of its splendour as I reached out to touch it.

Before I could turn down her offer to wear such an expensive-looking accessory, she'd slipped the bangle on to my wrist and turned my focus back to my reflection. I loved it.

Just then, Mr Millar knocked on my bedroom door and told me, "Your date is here."

My eyes widened. "Okay, give me five minutes," I said, suddenly losing any poise I'd had during my time in front of the mirror.

"Are you ready?" asked my mom.

"Do I look _not_ ready?" I asked, afraid I was missing something. "What more do I need?"

"Your bag?" she added, holding the tiny white silk handbag I'd borrowed from Vee.

"Right." I then gathered my house keys and mobile phone and slipped them into the mouth of the bag as my mom held it open.

"Are you ready now?" she asked again.

I actually had to think about it because I was about to make the most fabulous entrance of my life thus far and I didn't want the dress being tucked into my underwear to be the downfall of all my work. I wanted to be a princess, royalty of the night, a fantasy of femininity that would stand out amongst the rest. I wanted Patch to remember me like that the next time I messed ice-cream all over my face or the next time I had a bad hair day.

Then I looked in the mirror and turned around to make absolutely certain that I was done. "I'm ready."

I grabbed a white coat from the hanger and gave it to my mom who then rushed to her room. I made my way to the steps and slowly walked down, being very careful in my heels. As I descended, I saw two sets of legs, one in casual trainers and jeans, the other in smart black shoes and black pants.

Step by step, more of my date was revealed to me until finally I saw him standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up at me with the biggest smile, I swear, I'd seen in a long time from him. Patch looked debonair in his black suit and tie, the way it was tailored to his v-shaped torso over a white button-down shirt. His now slightly shorter hair was gelled back effortlessly which made his eyes more alluring than usual. I couldn't wait to be in him arms again.

I stopped before the final step where Patch stood blocking my way, his eyes locked on me. Success, I thought.

"Hi," I said.

And he said nothing. The smile was plastered on his face and he simply held out his hand and moved out of my way so that I could disembark the staircase.

I took his hand and my final step down where I was nearly the same height as he was. He placed his hands on my hips and I wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him.

"You look beautiful," he said in my ear. I giggled in response and thanked him.

Just then, my mom came down the stairs with the camera in her hand. "Doesn't she look beautiful?" she asked the men at my side.

Patch nodded and Mr Millar said, "Very beautiful." I turned around and smiled at him to say thanks. And he smiled back with sincerity.

"Before you leave, I need to take some pictures," ordered my mom, excitement overtaking her. "Let's take one of you on your own." And she started playing the photographer, asking me to stand like this and that and one photo with Patch and one with her and even one with Mr Millar. I suddenly became uncomfortable with the last one, hoping I wouldn't come out looking like him in the picture. I don't know why it bothered me so much, he was a good-looking guy. Before I could think of it anymore, Patch caught my attention and drew a smile on his face. I laughed and held it for the photo.

Ten minutes later, we were in a sleek, black luxury car which Patch said he'd borrowed from a friend.

"The jeep wouldn't do for tonight," he'd told me, giving me the once-over.

"This car is growing on me already," I'd said, caressing the leather seats.

We arrived at the dance early, it seemed, since only ten other couples occupied the hall. I texted Vee to ask how long she'd still be when I looked up and saw her enter through the curtained doorway in a long, red empire-waisted v-neck dress and Elliot on her arm.

"Here's Vee," I told Patch. "Don't they look cute together?"

"I don't use the word 'cute'."

I slapped his arm and chuckled.

"Ow," he responded mildly.

"Sorry. I forget," I said, rubbing his arm where I'd hit him.

Even though Patch was a man and I didn't hit him hard at all, his pain threshold was still building up. Every sensation was new to him and he was still getting used to feeling so much all the time. Not only were tiny bumps and scratches slightly painful, he didn't respond well to temperature changes – so when it was cold, he was layered up like a five-year-old and when it was hot, well, off it went. He was constantly self-aware; like how his clothes rubbed against his skin; and how the wind tickled as it blew through every strand of hair; or how he always felt his heart beat.

It was pretty cute though, like the one time, when we were making out in my room and he stopped because his heart was beating so hard inside his chest. I know the feeling, but for him, it isn't pleasant. So we take things slow.

It's been a lot to get used to but it's been kind of fun being the more experienced one, being human and all. I've had my whole life to adjust to this world and Patch has only just started living life as a fully-functioning human being.

I gave him an apologetic kiss and then tried to find Vee again, who was then approaching our table.

"Wow! You look amazing!" I said excitedly and hugged her.

"Thanks, babe. You too. This colour is gorgeous on you. And look at your hair. I didn't even realise it was this long!"

As Vee and I exchanged preparation war-stories, the boys sat chatting about cars and sports. An hour later, after noticing everyone who entered after us, Marcie arrived in a pink strapless dress which was shorter in front than it was at the back, so that the inner-lining of the dress – a zebra print – was visible. Her silver shoes sparkled and so did the tiny Alice band in her hair. She looked around the room, with her date – a senior boy from the baseball team – at her side. She had everyone's attention because no one had worn anything as extravagant as Marcie had.

She sashayed passed our table and paid me no attention even though I stared at her when she got closer. I wasn't surprised. Marcie had been ignoring me ever since she found out about her father's history. One time, I tried talking to her as a way of calling a truce but she would have none of it. She called my mom and I "a family of whores" because my mom had stolen her father from her and I had stolen Patch from her.

She basically blamed us for ruining her life and told me to stay away from her. Since that day, she's completely ignored me. She hasn't started a fight with me, or written nasty things about me in the bathroom stalls or even looked my way. To her, I wasn't worth her time, not even worth an insult, and essentially, didn't exist.

The hall filled up pretty quickly and soon it was time to eat. Supper was finger-food, dessert was jelly and custard.

"This food isn't very _formal_ for a winter formal," said Elliot, poking his red jelly square.

"Mine's frozen," said Vee, trying to cut through hers with a spoon. Elliot turned his attention to her green jello and turned his spoon around to jab at her dessert with the sharp end of the handle. Not even Elliot's strength could break the surface of the solid jelly. "See?" cried Vee.

"Wait. Let me record this." She took out her phone and aimed the flash at Elliot, then started recording. "Look at the unbreakable jelly," commented Vee. "Not even Elliot The Mighty can destroy it."

Elliot made groaning noises as he exaggerated the use of his spoon as a sword to cut through the jelly. Patch and I laughed as Elliot still failed to penetrate the jelly. "Why won't you die?" cried Elliot, stabbing the jelly multiple times with his spoon handle until, finally, it went through. "Ha! Ha!" he rejoiced. "I have defeated you, King Jello!"

Vee laughed and zoomed into the jelly with the spoon sticking out of it. "It's bleeding custard," she said. "Let's get a response from our eye witnesses." She turned the flash on to us which was blinding at first. "Ma'am," said Vee, "Can you describe what you saw here?"

At first I laughed then Elliot reprimanded me. I quickly shut my smile and answered, "King Jello wouldn't die. He was terrorising our table with his jelly soldiers. But Elliot The Mighty saved the day." I chuckled, unable to keep a straight face.

"Are you glad he's dead?" asked Vee.

"Yes," said I.

"Sir," she asked Patch, "do you have any words to say to Elliot The Mighty?"

Patch looked at Elliot and said sombrely, "You're my hero." The camera turned to Elliot who forced his lip to quiver as he wept at the sentiment.

"And the day was saved by our hero, Elliot The Mighty," Vee announced to which Elliot turned on a hero pose. We all laughed. "Oh shit. It wasn't recording."

"Ah! Come on!" we all jeered.

"Just kidding," she gave a cheeky grin then handed the phone to Elliot who wanted to watch the video.

I excused myself from the table and went to the ladies' toilets. When I got out of the cubicle, Marcie was standing at the basin re-applying her makeup. I looked at her from the corner of my eye but she paid me no mind. I enjoyed the absence of her bullying me but her ignoring me made every encounter more tense and awkward.

As I washed my hands, I stole another glance in the mirror of Marcie and her flamboyant outfit. "I like your dress," I said, breaking tradition. She had no reaction, not a quick glance my way or even a snide remark like 'who doesn't?' She continued to ignore me.

I turned to the wall to dry my hands and just as I'd finished, Marcie was leaving for the exit with a string of toilet paper stuck to her shoe. Leaving the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to your shoe could be one of the most embarrassing things to happen to anyone, especially a girl who is dressed to the nines. Without thinking about it, I put my foot on the end of the trail hoping the other end would slip off the bottom of her shoe, but it didn't. My end broke off while the rest was dragged along by Marcie's foot.

"Marcie, wait," I quickly said. She ignored me as she opened the bathroom door. Just then I grabbed her arm. "Wait!" I said and put my foot down next to hers. She didn't say anything even as she tried to get away from me. She picked up her foot and I watched our feet as I slipped the toilet paper out from under her. Only then did I let go.

She looked up from our feet and pulled herself straight again. I removed the paper from my shoe and dumped it in the bin.

"Thanks," she said and I quickly turned back to her, only to catch her already gone through the door.

I gave myself a minute to establish whether Marcie had really said those words, let alone spoken to me for the first time in months. But I tried not to get too excited at the prospect of her and I becoming civil. We'd both been through a lot but hopefully, one day, she will stop blaming me for her father's choices or the history he shared with my mother before either of us were born.

When I returned to our table, I noticed Vee was in a dancing mood, bouncing around in her seat and using her arms to dance to the music.

"You look ready to dance," said Patch to Vee with his arm hanging on the back of my chair.

"I am," she said, nodding her head to the beat. "Let's dance, guys."

I wasn't jumping at the chance to show off my less-than-adequate dancing skills but Elliot was. And once Vee begged me some more, I turned to Patch.

"Fine," he said and pushed out his chair. He held out his hand and took me to the dance floor where the four of us jived to some house and hip-hop tunes. Elliot and Vee naturally stole the show as they tried to out-perform each other.

Before long, the music changed to slow rock and Patch took me in his arms and we rocked slowly from one foot to another.

"How many school dances have you been to?" I asked him as my hands hung on to his shoulders.

"This is my first."

"Really? Why?"

"I had better things to do before," he said.

"And now?" I asked, smiling as I always did when I was near him.

His eyes danced over my face. "I can't think of anything better." I blushed.

"So you're enjoying your new life?" I asked. He nodded. "Even though you have to work and earn money honestly?"

"I've traded in angel laws for human laws. What can you do?" he shrugged. Patch had refused to continue high school since becoming human. As part of the new identity that Detective Basso conjured up for him, Patch was an orphaned nineteen-year old who'd graduated from high school. Because he couldn't decide which career he'd like to follow, he became a Temp, doing anything from office jobs to delivery jobs to construction jobs. Since he'd been around so long and seen so many people be stuck and unhappy in their jobs, he rather enjoyed the variety that his offered.

"Well, I'm glad you've switched. Everything feels so normal now even though it shouldn't be," I said. "It's kind of weird, now that there are no secrets to keep and no one trying to kill me."

Patch laughed. "Don't tell me you miss it."

"Not at all. There were only two things that could've ruined tonight and their names are Marcie and Dabria."

Patch sighed.

"But that's not a problem anymore. Dabria's gone," I said, remembering when Detective Basso blocked her memories of Patch and I before she was reassigned to a new target. "And Marcie spoke to me."

"She did?" he said, shocked. "How bad was it?"

"Not at all," I replied. "We had a moment in the toilets." Patch smirked. "Not like that! I stopped her from leaving with toilet paper stuck to her shoe. And she thanked me. As in, she actually said 'thanks'!"

He raised his brow in surprise.

"Yep. It's been a good night. It couldn't get any better," I said, realising my life could be worse. I could've been dead. My biological father could've been a pistol-packing drug addict and wife beater. My boyfriend could've been sent to hell which he'd been fighting so hard to prevent. My best friends Elliot and Vee could've been seriously hurt or killed in the past year by nephilim and fallen angels. Marcie could've killed herself, or me, after what she found out. Things could've been much worse.

I looked into Patch's eyes, smiled and gave him a kiss. "I'm so glad you remembered me."

Patch smiled and said to me, "I love you." He didn't say it often which made the times he did say it mean so much more, especially when he could say it in public. He didn't have to hide it anymore and neither did I.

"Patch," I breathed in. "I love you."

* * *

**A/N: **And so we end as we began.

I first started writing this story as a replacement for Becca's second book. No disrespect to her - because we love what she's given us - but Crescendo was so depressing for me and it left us on a cliff hanger. I wanted Nora and Patch to be together (they deserved it) and that was my aim for this story.

Thank you all for reading. It has been a great first-time experience sharing my work with the world and completing my first novel-sized story.

Keep in touch and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to PM me.

Love, hugs, kisses and fist-bumps to all of you.


End file.
